To Be Your Curse

Chapter 33: Don't Leave

We locked eyes the moment he walked in, his usual half-guarded expression meeting my wide, panicked gaze. I quickly tore my eyes away, swallowing hard hoping I can fake a good mood.

"Did you hit your head again?" he asked, a trace of amusement in his voice. His footsteps grew louder as he walked toward me, the weight of his presence making it harder to keep my breathing steady.

"Was it that loud?" I asked, forcing a smile as I lifted my head from the desk. But when I finally looked up at him, standing just inches away, I saw the shift in his face. His smile faded, the easy humor draining from his eyes as concern replaced it. His brow furrowed as he studied me, the teasing gone.

"Why do you look so stressed?" His voice softened, and he tilted his head slightly.

"Homework," I lied, turning away from his penetrating stare, tapping the notebook in front of me. It was the best excuse I could come up with at the moment, besides, it isn't far from the truth.

He sighed, long and deep, like he could see right through my flimsy excuse. Without another word, he pulled out the chair next to me and sat down. The scrape of the chair legs against the floor sent a shiver up my spine, and then he did what he always did-he reduced the space between us, sliding his chair so close I could feel the warmth of his body.

"Well, lucky you, I was a tutor for more than three years," Cassiel said, a partial smile tugging at his lips as he slid the note from beneath my arm.

"Really?" I asked, trying to sound more intrigued than I felt. But honestly, I was interested-just too exhausted to show it.

He scanned the questions on the page, his brow furrowing for a moment in thought. "Yeah," he murmured, glancing back at me. "Maren, Jayden, Oliver," he listed off casually.

I let out a short laugh at the realization. That explained why Oliver always complained about missing Cassiel whenever he had to study.

"Though it's been a while since I had to solve stuff like this," he admitted, still studying the page. "But it looks fairly simple," he added, reaching for the pen on the desk.

I watched as his hand moved quickly, his pen gliding across the page with such ease it felt almost unreal. He didn't pause, didn't second-guess-he just wrote, like the answers were already etched into his mind. I couldn't help but feel a little dumb for struggling so much with the same question he breezed through.

I smiled faintly, images of Maren and Oliver complaining about every lecturer flashing through my mind.

So this is the guy they keep comparing them to.

When he was done, he pulled out his phone, likely double-checking the formulas before sliding the notebook back to me. My eyes widened when I saw his work-he'd dumbed everything down into the simplest steps, numbered and written out in short, digestible sentences.

Did he really just make all this look like elementary school math?

He chuckled softly, pulling me from my thoughts. I lifted my gaze to find him leaning back in his chair, watching me with a relaxed smile, one arm draped casually on the desk.

"How did you-" I began, still in awe, but he cut me off with a knowing look.

"Trained by Maren," he explained. "She'd get discouraged anytime she saw something even slightly complicated, so I learned to simplify it like this. I'm used to it." He leaned back further, letting me study the notes, though I could feel his eyes lingering on me.

Despite the clear, easy-to-follow steps, I still struggled to focus. Between the dull throb in my head from earlier and the buzzing thoughts I'd been trying to avoid all day, concentrating felt impossible. I sighed in frustration, fighting the urge to slam my head into the desk again.