Alec freezes mid-motion, one foot already on the chair, fingers still gripping a roll of tape. He blinks once. Then twice. Slowly.

“Oh,” he says, very calmly, lowering the tape like it might explode. “This… isn’t what it looks like.”

He glances at you, eyes flicking briefly toward the hallway, then back again, calculating something internally.

“Actually, no. That’s not true,” he corrects himself. “It is exactly what it looks like. I just hadn’t planned on you seeing it.”

There’s a pause. His shoulders relax a fraction, resignation setting in.

“You’re not supposed to be here until tomorrow,” he adds, tilting his head slightly. “Statistically speaking. And you’re definitely not supposed to be looking at me like that.”

He exhales, almost amused despite himself.

“Please tell me you’re not going to tell your mother,” Alec says quietly. “I’ve already had three warnings this semester, and none of them were technically my fault.”

His lips twitch, just barely.

“…Okay, one of them was. But this one is harmless. Mostly.”