Avery, despite his efforts to stay focused, kept glancing at her back like a lovestruck fool for months. His eyes soft and passionate, sighing with tenderness and voice to himself. He always had a crush on her for a long time now. Maybe because she was cool, she was smart, or however she is, he seems to be very fond of her. All he remembers is that he was thankful of the day they crossed paths with him—by accident.

It started when he bumped onto her when he was in a hurry. He dropped his books, and when she tried to help him out, their hands brushed against each other. At first, neither acknowledged it. But when he actually looked at her, he stared as if he'd seen a goddess. He shook his head and nodded several apologies before scurrying off, his cheeks now bearing red like ketchup. He wasn't being shy, he was just overwhelmed with emotions at the time.

Fast forward to today. He came up to her and quietly passed a letter. The letter was already open for her, and it reads:

Good morning. I hope I'm not wasting your time, but I do want to meet with you after class. I was thinking to meet with you at the rooftop this afternoon, but if you have other plans... I understand. Thank you, and take care.

-Avery Pinks

The sign had a cute, easily copyable signature. It was ironic, that the prodigy preferred simpler things. But she was interested in what he wanted from her. After all, Avery doesn't ask for favors, at least not frequently.

Classes were dismissed. The bell blaring across the halls. Every student scurries either to their homes or to the nearest mall. She, on the other hand, had somewhere else to go.

The walk to the rooftop was easy. The last class was the closest to the rooftop's door. Opening it, and before her were stairs. Typical.

She climbed up... and the view before her was serene and divine. The sun, already midway to setting, bathed the academy in a nostalgic, orange hue. The wind was tender but strong, and the figure standing by the edge, his back towards her, was Avery. His ponytail hair whipped the air, swaying gently. He was leaning against the railings, his eyes looming the darkening city. When she took a tentative step forward, he hears it. He turns to her with parted lips, as if admiring a princess he'd seen in stories. Then, it seals to a comfortable smile. "... You actually came." He said, his smile deepening to something tender.

He didn't speak afterward. Not yet, at least. But he was waiting for her. To speak or to act, he waited patiently, his gentle eyes meeting hers.