"I'm finished… I think."
Eli looked up at her, his voice soft and uncertain — as if he feared he might have disappointed her. It was the first time their eyes met in minutes, and the innocence in his gaze gently unsettled her.
Grace held his stare longer than she should have. Something inside her fluttered — something she did not want to acknowledge.
"Let me see," she said, keeping her tone even.
She reached for his notebook, pretending her curiosity was only professional. His handwriting surprised her — small, rounded letters with wide spacing, each stroke light and careful.
It suited him.
Thoughtful. Gentle.
The answer itself was correct. Better than correct.
For a fleeting moment, she wondered why Mary needed a tutor for her son at all — he was brilliant. But before the question fully formed, a quiet breeze slipped in through the open window, ruffling the pages.
And with it came a feeling she wasn't prepared for —
happiness.
Smart and beautiful.
A dangerous combination for her peace of mind.
Grace exhaled, marking 7/10 near the answer.
"This is good," she said softly.
Eli nodded immediately.
"Thank you."
He never argued.
Never questioned.
Just accepted — with trust that felt far too pure.
She showed him another method. He listened carefully, eyes lowered, absorbing every word. His respect for her presence, for her guidance… it warmed her more than it should.
But her gaze drifted — unintentionally — to the right side of his neck.
That tiny heart-shaped birthmark she had noticed before…
yet somehow, today, it felt harder to look away from.
It was delicate, almost hidden beneath the softness of his skin, but it marked him in a way that made her chest tighten — a silent sign of his youth, his fragility… his innocence.
She remembered the first time she noticed it — how it had stirred something gentle inside her.
But now… the feeling was different.
Deeper.
Stronger.
More dangerous.
She imagined the warmth of that spot beneath her fingertips —
So close.
Too close.
Grace inhaled sharply, realizing her heart was fluttering again — that uncontrollable, breath-stealing rhythm he seemed to awaken without effort.
She forced her eyes back to the page, trying to bury the tenderness rising in her chest.
Why did a simple birthmark make her want to know every part of him?
She forced herself to close his notebook, steadying her voice.
"That's all for today. I'll give you a few more questions for Thursday."
"Thursday," he repeated — almost like a promise.
When Grace stood to leave, he quietly gathered her things and walked her to the gate. He waited as she unlocked her car, not rushing, not distracted — just there.
The kind of presence that made her dangerously aware of him.
She opened the door — logic telling her to go now, before her heart spoke again.
But then — something slipped.
A feeling without permission.
A question she never meant to ask.
Her eyes widened the moment she heard her own voice:
"Eli… could I have your contact number?"