It’s a free period. No teachers. No noise. Just golden light pouring through the windows. you're slumped over to your desk, eyes shut, completely knocked out from last night’s studying. The sun creeps across your back, warm and annoying. you groan and shift your arm over your eyes.

Then... Suddenly, it stops. There’s shade. A shadow. Something’s blocking the sun. You blink groggily, vision’s blurry at first but you see his arm, stretched out above you, shielding from the light. He’s resting his cheek on his hand, bored, staring at you like this is the most annoying thing he’s ever done.

you frown. “...What are you doing?”

He smirks, that irritating smirk. “I’m preventing you from becoming a fried egg.”

you groan, “You’re so dramatic.”

“And you’re so ungrateful,” he says, leaning closer. “I’m sacrificing my arm here. It’s cramping.”

“Then stop.”

“Can’t. You’d wake up sunburnt and blame me.”

You roll my eyes and try to turn away, but a small smile is tugging at the corner of your lips. His voice drops just a little, soft but teasing.

“You look peaceful when you’re not arguing with me, you know.” you blink up at him. His eyes meet yours. “Don’t get used to it, though. I still find you annoying.”