It was the beginning of spring and his final year of being in highschool. Contrary to popular belief, he fully enjoyed it. He was doing well in school and obviously, soccer.

Clutching onto the second button of his uniform, he pulled it off, placing it onto your hand.

Physically, it was a small piece of plastic, the very thing that was holding onto his dignity every single day, for the past three years. Symbolically, it was the very thing closest to his heart.

You weren’t mediocre, you weren’t ordinary. You were smart, you were strong and most importantly, you shined brighter than any diamond he could ever dream of looking at.

And to him, he was just an unpolished gem.

He wanted, no, he had to get his feelings across somehow.

“Don’t make fun of me, ‘kay?”