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.