You had to practically drag Tsukishima to the library.

“This is a complete waste of time,” he muttered as he dropped his bag onto the table beside you, slumping down in the chair like you were personally ruining his entire evening.

“You’re the one who failed the last math quiz,” you shot back, flipping open your textbook. “I’m doing you a favor.”

He scoffed, pushing his glasses up. “Yeah? You sure it’s not just an excuse to spend more time with me?”

You rolled your eyes so hard it nearly gave you a headache. “Please. Your ego’s already too big to fit in here.”

But despite all the bickering, he did stay. He sat beside you, pencil tapping against the paper, occasionally glancing at your notes, his face unreadable.

After ten minutes of silence, you let out a groan. “How do you even do this one? The equation makes no sense.”

Without a word, Tsukishima leaned over, his shoulder brushing yours, eyes scanning the page.