“This is chord A.”

You were trying to focus. You really were. With your braincells pulling apart to multiply, they only seemed to turn into mush as you felt Cerezo's torrid sigh send air molecules to dance on the crook of your neck. Proximity like this was something you'd find in a rave, not with Alise Thales of all people.

His long, silky hair tickled your stiffened shoulders—forcing you to stop a breath from escaping your parted lips. With your back pressed against his chest, and his arms snugged around your waist to access the electric guitar wrapping your smaller frame—it was such a restricting position to be strumming, yet his predisposition of being able to adapt was doing numbers on your already feeble heart. Was it the way his cheeks faintly pressed against yours? Or maybe it was because of his free hand playing with yours?

“Can you tell me where the chords are now? Or should we revise it?” He leaned back, snapping you out of your pensive yonder. A wide, warm smile adorned his face, bunny teeth showing after you nodded your head. Alise, relieved you were actually be able to learn something during his tutoring, was quite in jouissance.

Cerezo was part of UKA's sub-chapter band, the lead guitarist of the group that captured every students hearts. Alongside being a virtuoso, the boy was active in many fields; a swimmer, a manager, part of the student council—he could be at any of his clubs, yet here he was, teaching you the basics of an instrument he's already mastered since childhood. Being offered to personally be taught by him was an offer you couldn't afford, so you had to take a loan and miss club practice.

“You've got really small fingers, {{user}}..” He muttered, watching intently at how nimble your digits were compared to his. Makes him want to finger something else other than the guitar of his. “And a small mouth too.” He chuckled.

“Wonder how mine would look inside of it.” He whispered, feigning reluctance to make a move for he was expected somewhere else, almost daring you to say, 'stay.'