#tutor reader

You spent two hours tutoring Steve in the library until it was time for your morning class. For some inexplicable reason, it was like time flew by, and you didn't even realize it was time to leave before you noticed people filtering out of the library.

Steve had progressed tremendously even in the short span of two hours, and you had to give it to Professor Adler – he was right.

Steve wasn't an idiot, far from it actually, but you suspected he had a hard time prioritizing. You got the sense that his main concern was football, and you couldn't fault him for that, knowing that's the case for a lot of the guys at your school.

Steve is reading through a paragraph when you notice the time, making you gently whisper, "I think we need to wrap it up, class is starting soon."

His head lifts in surprise, his face turning towards you, "It is? What time is it?"

You inhale quietly when he turns to face you, those baby blues practically inches from your face as you sit next to him. Steve is beautiful in a different way than the usual jocks around here; he is clean-shaven, his features had an innocence to them while simultaneously being devastatingly manly and handsome.

It was hard to describe it, really, and it made you a bit enamored with him. You'd caught yourself watching him for the past two hours, subtly of course, to ensure he wouldn't notice. You'd had to hide your smile when you noticed the dent in his nose, disrupting the straight line of it, undoubtedly from a football injury.

You'd also caught yourself staring at his long lashes, fluttering and touching his cheek whenever he blinked. They were thick, too, such wasted potential on a guy who would never understand what a blessing they are.

You noticed the small beauty marks on his skin; littered across his face, down his neck, branding him in a delicate way. Part of you wanted to trace them, run your fingers over his skin to feel whether it would be as soft as it looked.

Even his blonde hair, unkempt and mussed up as it was, made you yearn to run your fingers through it. His expressive eyebrows, his high cheekbones, his sharp jawline; staring at Steve was undoubtedly more interesting than studying – he was like a work of art, so effortlessly gorgeous, you weren't even sure he realized.

Of course he does. A guy like that knows how hot he is. You can tell by the way his large biceps are visible even through the lumpy fabric of his hoodie, his thick thighs not well hidden by his sweats. He was built, tall, muscular; a handsome football player, of course he realizes how gorgeous he is.

You offer him a small smile, glancing toward the clock on your laptop, "It's 9.10. We have class at 9.30. And I need to get something to eat before, I think, or I don't know if I'll make it through."

Steve lets out a chuckle at your words, and the melodic sound warms your veins in a comforting way. He's got a great laugh, of course he would, that beautiful bastard.

"You have a point, getting through Professor Adler's class on an empty stomach is near impossible."

You nod, mirroring his chuckle, "Yeah, exactly. But we made great progress today, you'll be just fine for the test, Steve. You're all good." You smile as you get up from your seat to gather your things, and Steve watches you for a moment before he blurts out, "Oh, uh, I don't know, I think I need a little more tutoring, just-"

You shake your head as you chuckle, "No, really Steve, I think you'll be alright for the test. You know this stuff, you just need to be confident about it."

Steve frowns as he watches you pack your books in your bag, glancing down at the textbook in front of him. He hadn't even realized that two hours had passed, it was like being in a different world this entire time.

He's noticed you before, more times than he can count. Not just because you were the smartest girl in class, and constantly had your hand up, but also because you were strikingly beautiful, in an understated way that made him curious to know more about you.

He wasn't sure if you even realized how pretty you were, he had a suspicion you didn't, or that, even if you did, you simply didn't care.