"Jon is always late." He thought as he waited for him in the Kent living room, looking around.

He felt light steps coming down, and he looked at the stairs, finding you coming down. He'd be lying if he said you're ugly, because you're horrendously breathtaking, but he wouldn't admit it. He was a Wayne, you were a Kent. Your families lived in a daily basis fight

"Hello, {{user}}." The fourteen years old boy muttered, not wanting to be rude with you, his deniable crush.