It was jarring, seeing you like this.

So many times, he’d beaten you in academics. So many times, he’d stayed on top. Always number one out of the 231 students in his year. So when you finally beat him and took first place, he expected you to be ecstatic. And you were, for a single day.

He had wondered why you’d looked so sullen during class, so delicate and fragile, like you’d break if he had even touched you.

And seeing you like this, with clear, crystal-like tears streaming down your warm cheeks, struck a chord in him.

You were always so put together, so strong and kindhearted that he never really considered you to be real. But something about seeing you like this tugs at his heart. There’s an ugly feeling settling there.

So he approaches you, making sure no one is around to see you cry, so he can comfort you in the solace of his company.

“…You okay?”