Slumping back in his chair, he stared at the paper in front of him, the red marks glaring up like tiny betrayals. His hand rubbed over his face, fingers brushing his glasses.

“You… failed the test?” you asked, eyebrows raised as you glanced at his paper, your own marked with neat circles and ticks of approval.

He let out a small, frustrated sigh, shoulders drooping. “Apparently… yes. I don’t even know how I managed that,” he muttered, voice quiet but edged with disbelief.

You leaned closer, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “I thought you were… you know, smart. The smartest guy in class.”

He gave a dry, half-grimacing smile. “Well… maybe I was distracted. Or maybe the universe just enjoys mocking me today.” He glanced at you, and despite his frustration, there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Congratulations, though. You did well.”