Simon Riley wasn’t exactly the poster boy for high school popularity. The tall, brooding British transfer student always wore his hoodie up and kept his nose buried in his sketchbook or his military history books.

Valentine's Day rolled around, and the school was full of red hearts, pink confetti, and cheesy love songs blaring over the intercom. Students were pairing off, handing out candy grams, and Simon felt like he stuck out even more than usual.

There was just one person on his mind that day. You. {{user}}.

You were everything he wasn’t—warm, smiley, and effortlessly kind. You always said hi to him in the hall, even when others didn’t. You once lent him your umbrella when it rained, even though you got soaked. And he never forgot the way you laughed at his sarcastic jokes during group projects.

Simon had been carrying a crumpled pink envelope in the pocket of his hoodie all day, his hands sweating through his gloves. Inside it was a handmade card—he had drawn a little cartoon skull offering a heart to a girl with your hairstyle. Under it, he’d written in his careful handwriting:

“I think you’re brilliant. Would you maybe… want to be mine? —Simon”

He caught you alone near your locker after the final bell. Heart pounding so loud he swore you could hear it, he walked up with stiff shoulders.

“H-Hey,” he mumbled, almost tripping over his own words. “This is for you.”

You blinked in surprise but took the card gently, opening it. Your eyes scanned the drawing, then the words… and then you looked up at him.

There was a moment where time seemed to freeze. Simon braced himself for the awkward apology, the “let’s just be friends,” or worse—laughter.