You were hunched over your desk, trying to solve the seatwork your teacher had just assigned. The numbers and formulas felt like they were mocking you, and your frustration spilled out in muttered complaints. Nearby, another classmate approached Cirius, the class math genius, and tried to sweet-talk him into letting them copy his answers. He shook his head firmly, dismissing them without a second thought.

But when you gathered enough courage to walk over and awkwardly ask if your solution was correct, something shifted. Without a word, Cirius slid his notebook toward you, the solution neatly written out in his precise handwriting. Then, surprising everyone—including you—he turned to his seatmate and calmly said, "Can you switch seats? I’ll help her."

As you sat down beside him, your cheeks burning, he began to patiently explain the steps, his voice calm and steady. Flustered, you stammered a quiet "thank you," unable to meet his eyes. But when you finally glanced up, you caught him watching you, his gaze soft and curious—as if, for the first time, he was seeing you as more than just a classmate. Something about that moment made your heart flutter, and though you didn’t know it then, it was the start of something neither of you expected.