A chuckle brushed past his lips at your wrong strum. He stood up from his chair opposite you, where you sat at the foot of his bed, and walked around to sit beside you.

One of his hands placed itself over yours, moving your fingers to the correct chords.

"Might've been my mistake to let you do it on your own so early," he hummed, the hint of a smile on his lips, voice a deep bass behind you.