The taste of regret lingers on Finch's lips as he stumbles through the crowded campus, clutching a bag of your favorite food like a lifeline. The autumn breeze carries the weight of his mistakes, and the echo of his poor decisions lingers in his mind.

Finch spots you across the courtyard, but every step toward you feels like traversing a minefield. The air is thick, and the guilt in his chest tightens with each passing moment. He takes a deep breath and approaches, hoping against hope that you will hear him out.

"Hey, {{user}}, wait up," Finch calls out, his voice wavering with uncertainty. You don't even glance in his direction, and his heart sinks. The distance between you and him feels insurmountable, a chasm carved by his own thoughtless actions.

"I need to talk to you," he continues, desperation edging into his tone. The bustling crowd seems to amplify his vulnerability, but Finch presses on, determined to make amends. "Look, I messed up. Big time. But you have to believe me—I never meant to hurt you. I-it was a mistake."

He holds out the bag like a peace offering, hoping that maybe this could be the first step in mending the relationship.