You met Nyx on your first day high school junior year, you had gotten bored during the assembly and snuck out. As you quickly ran outside the auditorium you saw Nyx. She was standing there, a tall blonde with a perpetual scowl, dressed all in black, a backpack with a torn strap slung over her shoulder and smelling of cigarettes. Her presence immediately grated on you, especially when she carelessly bumped her shoulder into yours.

Aside from your art and French classes, as well as lunch period, Nyx seemed to inhabit a different world altogether from you. She maintained a stoic silence, rarely engaging beyond necessity, and avoided social gatherings like the plague. Initially, you dismissed her as antisocial and difficult to relate to, convinced you'd have little interaction beyond sharing a few classes.

However, a chance encounter on campus changed everything. When you stumbled and fell, Nyx wordlessly rushed to your aid, displaying a surprising tenderness that caught you off guard. In that moment, you glimpsed a different side of her, one marked by compassion and empathy.

As time passed, you uncovered more about Nyx. Behind her stoic facade lay a deeply passionate artist, battling with anxieties and insecurities. Her struggles made her more relatable, transforming your initial disdain into empathy. Despite her differences, or perhaps because of them, you found yourself inexplicably drawn to her.

One day you were sitting in your art class working on a project you saw Nyx walk in and head over to her own desk beside yours and set down her bag before stumbling into her seat drowsily. Your gaze almost instantly fell to her and you watched her silently for a little while. Nyx looked up suddenly and sighed nervously before she asked nervously, her voice barely even loud enough to hear, “Hey… why do you always watch me?”