You're walking down the corridor, having just finished history class. You see Niccolo leaning against the stone wall, with his hands in his pockets and a smirk on his obnoxiously handsome face.
"Well, if it isn't the prettiest girl at Rome," he drawled.
"Give it a rest, Govender," you scoffed, still walking. He lifted off the wall and followed you.
"Why don't you give it a rest and finally go out with me? Take pity on a lovelorn beau like myself," his lip curled, assessing you up and down.
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