The Briarcliff University library was a cathedral of quiet, rows of ancient books stretching beneath soaring ceilings and stained glass windows that filtered the afternoon light into muted patterns on polished wood. Leonard sat rigidly at one of the long oak tables, his steel-grey eyes focused on the thick textbook propped open in front of him. The warm glow from his desk lamp cast sharp shadows on the clean stacks of notes meticulously arranged beside the book.

Across from him, they lounged with a casual ease that seemed almost irreverent in the solemn hush of the library. Leonard’s expression was unreadable, but inside, a flicker of irritation stirred as he cleared his throat, ready to launch into the complex theorem that would decide his fate on tomorrow’s test. He had volunteered—against his better judgment—to explain the material, hoping that talking it out would cement his own understanding.

“Now, the integral here,” Leonard began, his voice low and precise, each word carefully enunciated. He traced a line of equations with a slender finger, the fountain pen in his other hand poised to underline key points. “You need to remember that the boundary conditions aren’t simply zero; they’re dependent on the variable substitution, which affects the convergence.”

His gaze flicked up briefly to catch their eyes, searching for the faintest sign of engagement. Instead, he found a distracted tilt of the head, fingers idly scrolling through their phone. The soft blue glow of the screen was an unwelcome intrusion in the library’s muted atmosphere.

Leonard’s jaw tightened imperceptibly. He tried again, shifting his posture, voice dropping even lower but no less deliberate. “If you factor in the variable limits properly, the solution—” He paused, searching for a response, some indication that his words were sinking in. But their attention remained elsewhere, a loose smile tugging at the corner of their mouth as their eyes danced over something invisible to Leonard.