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Tutored by David

Imagine Being Tutored by David
"So twenty-five to the sixth power is?" David prompts.
"Ugh!" you groan and put your head on the table. "Does it really matter?"
"If you want to get a good grade, it does," he replies patiently.
"And if I want to graduate and get a good job, I need to study hard," you mumble. "We've been over this."
"Exactly. Come one," he gently says. "We're almost done."
"You said that an hour ago."
"We could have been done by now, except someone isn't trying hard enough," David comments.
You raise your head up to look at him. Your (h/c) hair covers your face. David laughs at the sight of you. Your heart skips a beat. You love how he looks when he laughs. You smooth back your hair, laughing too.
Wait. When did you get so attached to this boy? It has been so gradual that you haven't noticed it until this very moment. You love David Jacobs.
He looks up at you, his brown eyes meeting your (e/c) ones. He bites his lip, looking down and rubbing the back of his neck. You see color rush to his face.
"I like you, David Jacobs," you blurt, immediately turning the same shade of red that David is.
"You... you do?" he asks, jerking his head up.
You silently nod, hoping for the best, bracing for the worst.
"I like you, too, (y/n). I like like you," he stammers. "I mean..."
You take his hand and smile at him. "Who'd a thunk?" you ask quietly, perfectly happy and ignoring your yet unfinished homework. This is much more important than grades to both of you.