“You didn’t stop at the stop sign.” He corrects you… again. You were driving with Shirabu, who had offered to help you with driving lessons. Your stomach swirled at every correction, every direction. And you had a feeling that didn’t have to do with your inferior driving skills. “Just… pay attention, okay? Or else I’m driving you back and you’re calling me an uber.” He says. His tone is fighting to stay soft, and it shows.