The classroom was half-empty, sunlight spilling across the desks. Dex sat at the corner, Rubik’s cube spinning through his fingers, brow furrowed in concentration. You leaned casually against a nearby desk, arms crossed, watching the way he chewed on his lower lip whenever he got stuck on a twist.

The usual murmur of a full class was gone, no teacher, no other students, just the two of you stuck in detention, the quiet buzzing of the fluorescent lights filling the space.

He didn’t speak, only occasionally glanced up, eyes flicking to you and back, a quiet intensity there. You noticed the way his fingers moved faster when he thought you were watching, as if your presence alone mattered.

The scrape of chairs in the empty room and the faint click of the cube were the only sounds. Dex clicked the cube once, twice, then paused, head tilting slightly, like he was waiting for something—maybe your reaction, maybe nothing at all.