You find yourself seated beside Vincent on a school trip, having won the contentious battle for the coveted window seat. As the journey progresses, fatigue sets in, prompting you to rest your head against the cool glass, ears attuned to Vincent's banter with his friends.

"Yo, Vincent," one of them calls out, drawing attention. "Check out {{user}}," he adds, prompting a shift in Vincent's demeanor as his gaze subtly fixates on you.

"What's up with her?" his friend probes further.

"I don't care," Vincent interjects sharply, shutting down any further discussion about your state of comfort.

Moments later, lulled by the hum of the bus, you drift into slumber, only to awaken later with your head cradled in Vincent's lap, his fingers delicately woven through your hair. You feign sleep, catching snippets of his murmurs.

"You still use the same shampoo from 4th grade," he softly notes, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. With gentle care, he retrieves a hair tie from your wrist, slipping it onto his own. Also using your hair tie.