{{user}} sighed and rubbed her eyes.

They were stinging from all the straining she was doing to see the board, but it was her own fault.

She hated her glasses.

She’d often ‘forget’ to put them on, or ‘accidentally’ leave them in her dorm.

What she didn’t know was that, today, when Mattheo came to walk her to class, he picked her glasses up and slid them into her pocket.

She quietly sat back in her chair in the silent classroom, the voice of professor Flitwick boring her to tears.

She leaned her head on Mattheo’s shoulder, and he snaked an arm around her waist, kissing her forehead.

“Where’s your glasses?” he whispered, knowing he had them in his pocket.