Later that day, the classroom had become quieter.
Most students were either distracted, whispering, or scrolling through their phones, waiting for the next lesson to begin. The afternoon light spilled through the windows, warm and slightly golden, casting long shadows across the desks.
At the far side of the room, Owen was sitting slightly turned toward Lillian's desk.
His elbow rested on the table, chin lightly propped on his palm, eyes fixed on her instead of the notebook in front of him.
Lillian, on the other hand, was fully focused.
She stood slightly beside her desk, one hand resting on the edge while the other pointed at her open notes. Her voice was steady, clear, and surprisingly confident for someone speaking casually.
"Okay," she said, tapping the page lightly with her pen. "This part is important. If you don't understand this base concept, everything else in chemistry becomes confusing."
Owen nodded slowly, though his expression already showed he was trying to keep up.
Lillian continued, turning slightly to write on the board at the front of the class. Her handwriting was neat, precise, and quick.
Owen's eyes followed her movement instead of the content.
She didn't notice at first.
She was too focused on teaching.
"And this is how you balance chemical equations," she said, writing another line. "You always start by making sure the number of atoms on both sides is equal."
She turned back to face him, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
Owen straightened slightly in his seat as if caught off guard.
Lillian noticed his expression and raised a brow.
"You're following?" she asked.
Owen quickly nodded. "Yes… yes, I am."
But the hesitation in his voice betrayed him.
Lillian narrowed her eyes slightly, stepping closer to his desk. She placed her notebook down in front of him and leaned forward, tapping the page gently.
"Repeat what I just said."
Owen blinked.
He looked at the page.
Then at her.
Then back at the page again.
Silence stretched for a moment.
"Me…" he started slowly, shifting in his seat. "I… I don't know."
The classroom went quieter.
A few students nearby glanced over, amused.
Lillian stopped moving.
She slowly tilted her head, staring at him like she was trying to decide if he was joking or serious.
"What I've been lecturing for almost thirty minutes," she said slowly, "and you're telling me you don't know?"
Owen gave a small, awkward smile, scratching the back of his head.
"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I was trying to follow but—"
"But what?" Lillian interrupted, crossing her arms.
Owen hesitated again. "You were talking fast."
That earned a small smirk from her.
"Fast?" she repeated. "Or you were just not listening?"
Owen didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the desk.
"I was listening," he said softly. "Just… not processing."
Lillian stared at him for a second longer.
Then suddenly—
She lightly hit his head with her pen.
Not hard.
Just enough to make him flinch slightly.
"Ow—!" Owen said, touching his head.
Lillian immediately laughed.
"Focus!" she said, shaking her head. "You're impossible."
Owen looked up at her, rubbing his head with a fake offended expression.
"You hit me."
"You deserved it," she replied without hesitation.
That made Owen laugh.
A real laugh this time.
Not forced. Not teasing.
Just genuine.
Lillian rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her own smile forming.
"Honestly," she said, turning back to the board. "I don't know how you survive classes."
Owen leaned back in his chair, watching her again.
"Because I have a good tutor," he said casually.
Lillian paused mid-writing.
Then glanced over her shoulder at him.
"Excuse me?"
Owen grinned slightly. "You."
Lillian turned fully now, pointing her pen at him.
"Don't start getting comfortable," she warned.
Owen raised his hands slightly in defense. "I'm serious."
She stared at him for a moment longer, then shook her head with a small smile.
"Alright," she said, walking back toward him. "Let's try again."
She pulled her chair closer this time, sitting right beside him instead of standing.
The distance between them was smaller now.
More natural.
More personal.
She flipped the page of his notebook and began explaining again—but slower this time.
"Okay," she said, tapping the diagram. "This is oxygen. This is hydrogen. When they combine, you don't just add numbers randomly. You balance them."
Owen leaned in slightly, watching her hand as she pointed.
This time, he actually tried to focus.
"I think I get it," he said slowly.
Lillian looked at him suspiciously.
"You think?"
Owen nodded. "I think."
She sighed dramatically. "That's dangerous."
Owen laughed again.
"I'm improving," he said.
"Barely," she replied, but there was no real harshness in her tone.
A few minutes passed like that.
Lillian explaining.
Owen attempting.
Lillian correcting.
Owen making small mistakes.
And both of them slowly laughing more than arguing.
At one point, Owen pointed at the wrong part of the equation.
Lillian gently grabbed his hand and moved it to the correct place without thinking.
Both of them paused.
For half a second too long.
Then Lillian quickly withdrew her hand like nothing happened.
"Right there," she said quickly, clearing her throat.
Owen blinked once, then smiled faintly.
"Got it," he said softly.
But he didn't stop watching her.
As the lesson continued, their voices lowered slightly.
The classroom noise faded into the background.
It was no longer just teaching.
It was something else.
Comfortable.
Unspoken.
Natural.
At one point, Lillian leaned slightly closer to his notebook, her shoulder brushing his briefly as she pointed at a line.
Owen didn't move away.
He didn't even react.
He just listened.
And for the first time, he actually understood something properly.
"Wait," he said suddenly. "So this means if we change this value—"
"Yes!" Lillian interrupted quickly, her eyes lighting up slightly. "Exactly! That's it."
Owen smiled widely. "Ohhh."
Lillian leaned back, crossing her arms.
"See?" she said. "You're not completely hopeless."
Owen placed a hand on his chest dramatically. "That sounds like a compliment."
"It's not," she said immediately.
But she was smiling.
They both were.
And neither of them noticed how naturally the distance between them had disappeared.
No awkwardness.
No hesitation.
Just learning.
Just talking.
Just… growing.
From the other side of the classroom, someone briefly glanced at them.
But Owen and Lillian didn't notice.
Because in that moment—
They were too focused on each other.