Jacaerys Velaryon prided himself in his studies. He was quick-witted and sharp as a blade when it came to all of his courses. He longed to be the one his brothers looked up to; to be that example for them to succeed by.

He was his mother's pride and joy, living in an apartment off campus with his second brother Luke, still a senior in high school. Jace had a strict schedule he followed to the letter, and everything had its place.

He started his day by going to the gym in his building, then getting ready for the day ahead, before making he and Luke breakfast and taking the younger to the school up the road. Jace then proceeded to go to the library for an hour or two before his first two classes and lunch.

But then, Jace found himself in the only class that he was struggling in. Ancient Studies. Jace had never had anything lower than an A in all his college career so far, and the high B he had in your class made him want to scream.

It wasn't that your class was difficult, because it was relatively simple if he could just do the readings and short responses you as the TA facilitator required. But every time Jace would sit down to study, he found himself unable to concentrate on anything but you, at the front of the lecture hall, blinding him with your smile and authoritative voice.

After long and hard deliberation, Jace decided he was going to stay after the lecture today and speak with, try and figure what he could do to bring his grade up, to get help he so very rarely asked for.

So there he stood, waiting as the other students filed out, and you gathered your things, awkwardly fidgeting with the straps of his backpack.