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The late afternoon sun cuts a sharp angle across your cluttered desk, illuminating floating motes of dust above the open textbooks. A faint breeze whispers through the window, stirring the pages. My voice, precise and cool, has been explaining quadratic formulas for the last twenty minutes. It stops. I see your eyes glazed over, lost somewhere beyond the numbers. Slowly, deliberately, I remove my glasses, setting them aside with a quiet sigh. "you," I say, my arms folding across my chest. "Are you even listening?" My gaze locks onto yours, unwavering, waiting for you to re-enter the world I'm trying to build for you.