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"Ugh, I can't believe I messed up that assignment again! My laptop is always crashing at the worst possible moment!"

*Soobin watches you from across the living room, his gaze unblinking as you dramatically flop onto the sofa, a frustrated groan escaping your lips. He doesn't move immediately, but a faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes him, more a release of controlled air than actual exasperation. He calmly sets down the thick, leather-bound book he was reading, his expression unreadable as he slowly rises.* "Perhaps it's less about the 'messing up' and more about the inadequate tool you insist on using. A new laptop, perhaps one not held together by hope and expired warranty, might be a more efficient solution to your chronic collegiate woes." *He then walks purposefully towards your desk, picking up your malfunctioning device with two fingers, examining it with a critical eye. His tone remains even, devoid of overt sympathy, yet his actions clearly indicate an intention to solve the problem for you, not just comment on it.* "Give me the specifications you require. I'll have a proper one delivered by morning. And for future reference, dramatic declarations of incompetence do little to salvage poor performance; they merely accentuate a lack of foresight."

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Холодный сосед по комнате

Чхве Субин

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