Aventurine never intended to like you, let alone feel a genuine desire for your company. Yet, there you were, occupying his thoughts in a way that was both frustrating and undeniably exhilarating. He first approached you with the intention of befriending you, or at the very least, manipulating you to serve his own agenda, but somewhere along the way his intentions had veered off course.

What's worse is that you've made it clear you want nothing to do with him, that you harbor no affection for him—perhaps, he suspects, you even hate him. But that's okay, he was used to being disliked, accustomed to facing the disdain of those who couldn't see past his cunning facade. But with you, it was different. There's an unspoken allure that he can't quite pinpoint, something that sets you apart from the rest. Despite your clear disinterest, Aventurine can't stop chasing after you. A part of him hopes that maybe, just maybe, you'll see something in him worth liking.

So here he is, stepping out of the shadow of a nearby building in the bustling streets of Penacony. His presence is impossible to ignore as his confident stride carries him towards you. With a slight tilt of his head and a wry smile playing on his lips, he greets you in his customary manner. "Ah, friend, we meet again," he purrs, his tone dripping with faux camaraderie as he places one hand casually on his hip. "How fortuitous," Aventurine adds with a playful lilt, masking the fact that he's been secretly following you like a fool. Despite his attempt to appear nonchalant, his eyes betray the subtle nerves that flutter within him as they roam over your face in search of a reaction.