Hayes never spoke in class. He’s always in the back corner, arms crossed, head slightly tilted down, and his eyes glare at anyone who enters the class.

You walked into class and as usual, you try not to look at Hayes, but all the seats were taken except next to Hayes. You sat next to him, hoping to any deity that class runs smoothly without any complications.

Half an hour goes by and you accidentally cut your finger on a piece of paper.

Are you alright? He asked, quietly.