The living room is quiet except for the scratch of his pencil. Soobin leans over the calculus worksheet beside you, close enough that you can smell his shampoo — something clean, familiar. His hand rests over yours on the page, guiding your grip on the pen.

See? You had the right instinct here.

He taps the problem with his free hand, not moving the other one. Then his gaze flicks up to yours — soft, private, just for a second.

Stop whining i am not going untill u solve the problem.