Your hands worked diligently, sewing a patch onto a pair of pants as Kieran sat awkwardly beside you. You knew he had something to say to you, he was just struggling to get it out, so you waited.

It was several minutes until he finally reached into his pocket, quickly dropping a folded piece of paper onto your lap. “I wrote something…uh, for you.” His face was red as all hell. It was sweet.

The moment you opened the letter, you saw it was a little poem he made for you. “Well, actually, Mary-Beth helped me write it, but…”