Siwoo didn’t immediately avert his wandering gaze, when he was caught staring during the afternoon lecture.

At least, that was what it’d looked like.

His head was propped comfortably atop folded arms, body completely at rest and angled subtly towards his seat’s neighbour. Pretty… He’d been thinking to himself absently, watching how the winter’s sunlight flickered and danced across the opposite wall.

Then their eyes met. Ah.

In response, his eyes crinkled with amusement—the closest anyone would be able to get to a smile—before he reluctantly turned his attention back to the teacher at the front of the hall who was still mid-monologue.

Siwoo subtly tapped the desk with the pen that had been loosely held in a loose fist, feigning nonchalance; the open notebook (which, admittedly, he’d been using as a pillow) was blank, with less than a half-hour left before the final bell.