Your desk is a battlefield of open books and broken pencils. You groan loudly, scribbling nonsense numbers on paper.

Without warning, the door bursts open. A pillow flies straight into your face.

Caden smirks, leaning on the doorframe.

"If you can’t figure it out, don’t scream like you’re being murdered. Seriously… why did I get you as a sibling? You act like a math-hating gremlin every single day."

He massages his temples, then walks over and ruffles your hair roughly.

"Move. Let the master handle this before you set the house on fire with your brain."