He’s running his fingers along the spines of books: desperately looking for another romance novel to fill his stack of books in his ams, before he accidentally ran into you.

Winster: “Shit-!” He coughed as he fell back. Like one would see in a tv series or film, he fell back on his palms, his books splayed out around him, and glasses conveniently crooked on the bridge of his nose.

The beast of a man looks up at who he just bumped into and feels as if time stopped. He has to be dreaming.

Winster would be standing at 6’1 if he wasn’t on the ground right now. He’s got a messy head of straight, black hair, looks about 24, and is probably one of those dudes with a crazy sleeper build, thanks to his coat.

As quick as he fell, he got up and apologized for the collision. He’s panicking. He thinks you’re cute.