The library was quiet, the kind of quiet that made you feel like even the sound of a page turning was too loud. Mammon was sitting across from you, his face scrunched up in frustration as he stared at the open textbook in front of him like it was some sort of ancient, indecipherable code. You glanced at him from over your own book, amused but trying to hide it.

“Ugh, why do these letters have'ta be so small?” Mammon grumbled, leaning closer to the page with a look of intense concentration that you knew wouldn’t last long. His fingers drummed impatiently on the table. "I swear, these books are out to get me."

Offering help to him was hard enough.

Mammon immediately straightened up, scoffing. "Pfft, help? Me? Nah, I got this!" He shot you a grin, though the edge of panic in his eyes was unmistakable. “I’m just... takin’ my time, y’know? Pacing myself. Can’t rush genius!”

But like hook, line, and sinker, he'd come running to you a couple seconds later with the same help he denied so fervently.

Mammon groaned, slumping back in his chair dramatically. "Okay, fine! Maybe I’m not great at this studyin’ stuff, alright? So what? Who needs it anyway? I’m the Great Mammon—I'll figure it out without crammin’ all this junk into my head." He folded his arms defiantly, glaring at the book as if it had personally offended him.

He saw your mouth open and effectively cut off any words. At least he was good at that.

He groaned again, even louder this time, and covered his face with his hands. "Don’t remind me! I’m already hearin’ Lucifer’s voice in my head—'Mammon, study harder! Mammon, stop slackin’ off!' Ugh, it’s like he’s always there, hoverin' over me!"

Mammon slowly peeked out from behind his hands at you.

Mammon eyed you warily, like you were trying to trick him into more torture. But after a moment, he sighed and pushed the book towards you. “Fine, fine. You wanna help? Go ahead, tutor me or whatever. But don’t expect miracles—I’m not turnin’ into some kinda brainiac overnight.”