His handwriting is incredibly neat. You look down at his detailed notes, organized in blocks of colored text, with additional details written in pen at the margins. You almost feel as if you're admiring them as you carefully read through. Such fine work surely deserves apt appreciation. Occasionally, you jot down a formula or two on your own notebook. Your eyes then reach the bottom of the page.

"Oh..this is..."

You glance back up at the boy, dazed. He already turned his attention back to his other workbooks. You stare back down at his notebook, looking at the completed math problem Mr. Jeong had just assigned.

So he already finished it. That quickly? In half the time as everyone else. No, even less than that.

At that moment, you decide that you made the right choice, asking for his notes out of everyone.

Mr. Jeong abruptly claps his hands, causing your attention to turn back to him.

"That should be enough time to at least get started on number 5. Does anyone want to volunteer to write down the first steps to solving it on the board?"

You hand the notebook back to Si-eun and give him a smile as you whisper, "thanks, Si-eun."

His eyes widen slightly as you say his name, he seems taken aback. He takes the notebook back, his gaze lingering on you. For a moment, you could've sworn you heard him mutter "you're welcome", but when you look back at his eyes, they seem so cold that you convince yourself it was just a fragment of your imagination.

-

"Work on the remaining problems for this topic at home. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

Mr. Jeong slings his brown leather bag over his shoulder and swiftly strides out of the classroom.

You remain in your seat, feeling tired after two hours of listening, or rather, pseudo-listening to mathematical explanations. The remaining students gather their pencils and papers and leave.

You catch a glimpse of Si-eun, who now has his wireless earbuds in, writing something down in a history textbook. Apparently, as soon as he finished his math classwork, he moved onto a different subject.

His dedication really is something else, you think. I could hardly stop myself from taking a nap during class. If I didn't feel bad about wasting dad's money, I would've played games on my phone the whole class.

You decide to sit back and observe him for a minute or two before you leave. You watch as he meticulously flips through the pages of his textbook, reading a couple significant sections aloud to himself.

If I took studying this seriously, I swear my parents would never, ever complain. Not even once.

You look back at your phone and frown.

Looking at him makes me want to start studying hard too..willingly. I better leave before I really do.

You throw your backpack around your left shoulder and walk to the doorway. You pause before turning back.

"Oh right, thanks again. For lending me your notes."

You watch him raise his head to look up at you. Again, with the same unbothered, cold expression. You smile, before you walk out the door once again.

-

You scroll on your phone as you walk back home, scrutinizing over the amount of schoolwork you have to complete, on top of the homework left from cram school.

Being a student in this age really is far too difficult, you conclude.

You let out a soft sigh, before raising your arms over your head and stretching.

"Maybe I should order some delivery for when I get home. I don't feel like cooking today..."

You quickly unlock your phone and make a call to a local, family-owned restaurant for delivery.

"Now I have something to look forward to when I get back!"

You arrive at your apartment and unlock the door with your keys. You set down your shoes and your bag, before slumping down on the sofa in the living room.

"Staying here really is super nice, especially since Mom and Dad are away," you smile. Your parents are currently abroad in the U.S. for business, leaving you by yourself in Korea.

You close your eyes for a few minutes, before being woken up by the sound of a knock on your front door.

"Delivery!"

You quickly slide your feet into some slippers and scurried to the door, sliding the metallic lock and opening it. Behind the door stands a boy. He's carrying a bike helmet in one hand, his other clutching a plastic bag with the meal you ordered.

The delivery boy looks about your age. He's rather tall with a set of strong features. A red and black is draped over his shoulders.

He smiles and hands the food to you. His eyes look kind, you notice. You then look down, and your eyes land on his school uniform that he's still wearing this late into the evening.

The uniform looks familiar. You pause for a second to consider where you could've seen it before, but the delivery boy coughs and breaks you from your trance of thought.

You excitedly take the plastic bag from him and smile.

"Thank you so much!"

He responds with a faint chuckle in return, before turning away, most likely to drop off his next delivery.

"You're welcome," he waves at you as he leaves and you close the door.

You're in a good mood as you bring your food to the dinner table. You set the delivery boxes down and open them. A single whiff of the Ssambap takeout and you knew it was going to be a delicious dinner. You take a bite of the meat and lettuce wrap and nearly melt at the taste. It's absolutely divine.

You smile, "this is why this restaurant is my absolute favorite!"

Next time you'll go eat at the restaurant in person, you decide.

If it tastes this good to-go, imagine how good it'll be in person!

You then pull out your schoolwork as you eat, deciding to finish it up before you are too exhausted to think.

I really should find myself a tutor. This homework seriously gets harder and harder to complete every time, I swear.

-

A/N: thanks for reading the first chapter! literally haven't written anything in so long

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