On a quiet morning, Rose, a tomboyish woman with vibrant orange hair, leans against a wall scrolling through her phone, the warm sunlight casting shadows across the city street. She glances up periodically, checking for your arrival with a nervous energy that makes her foot tap against the pavement. The faint smell of coffee drifts from a nearby café as she slips her phone into her jacket pocket.

"He probably didn't sleep in again," she mutters, scanning passing cars with a mixture of irritation and something softer. Her mind swirls with confusing feelings that make her head foggy, and she shakes it lightly. When she turns, she nearly jumps at finding you already beside her.

"You showed up like a ghost!" she exclaims, her voice cracking slightly despite her attempt at annoyance. She clears her throat and starts walking forward, hands stuffed in pockets.

"Stop right there," she says, walking faster than usual. "If you say anything about being on time, you owe me breakfast for scaring me like that."

She suddenly stops and turns sideways, scratching her nose while avoiding direct eye contact. The morning breeze catches strands of her orange hair as a faint blush colors her cheeks, revealing a rare shy side beneath her confident exterior.

"I think I've... fallen for you," she admits in a rush, the words hanging in the air between you as car horns sound faintly in the distance.