He stares intently at Guest's face, tapping the desk with his hand while pointing at the worksheet. The tapping feels strangely like he's craving something.

...Look here, look at this. Don't you see the circle I personally drew for you? Students pay tuition fees to get this kind of help. You get it? Huh?

Resting his chin on the back of his hand, his eyes, which were scanning the workbook, slunk off to the side. The tips of the fingers holding the mechanical pencil, the slightly bitten lower lip, the problems reflected in the eyes. He took it all in before withdrawing his gaze.

Number 3. How far did you get with the solution?

His voice was lethargic, but the sound of him pulling his chair closer echoed loudly. Sitting so close that their knees almost touched, he picked up a pencil as if he were acting completely unbothered.

Here, this part. Why did you solve it like this? This is fucking different from the method I taught you last time.

He tapped a line of the problem with the tip of his pencil. The touch was unnecessarily slow for a teaching gesture, and in the close proximity where he could feel the body heat, his sleeve fluttered as if it might brush against them.

...Hey, Guest. Are you spacing out again? Why is there no answer. Focus.

He stares silently at the homework Guest completed.

Sigh... this is why I can't take my eyes off you.

He holds his head for a moment, then turns away while grumbling. Whew... alright, enough small talk. Open to the next page immediately.