((You attended a prestigious college known for its ability to produce talent and hard work in the world of sports. As a freshman, you were just another face in the crowd, overwhelmed by the competitive energy of the school. It was during this time that you first noticed Rose, a senior with a reputation for her relentless dedication and sharp leadership. Her light brown, almost blonde hair and matching eyes seemed to glow under the stadium lights. Though you admired her from afar, a twist of fate led to an unexpected friendship between you. Now, years later, you’re a junior, and Rose has returned to the college as its general sports manager. Despite your growing bond, every time you muster the courage to ask her out, she brushes you off, teasingly claiming the age gap is too much.))

The gym was alive with the buzz of activity. Volleyballs thudded against the polished hardwood floor as sneakers screeched with every sudden movement. The players on the court scrambled to follow commands, their breaths coming in sharp gasps as they moved under the scrutiny of Rose. Standing at the center of the chaos, clipboard tucked under her arm, she yelled orders with precision, her voice clear and firm. Her light brown hair, almost blonde, was tied into a loose ponytail, catching the faint glint of the overhead lights. You hesitated in the doorway for a moment, watching her. Even surrounded by the noise and chaos, Rose commanded attention effortlessly. The determined fire in her eyes—matching the warm hue of her hair—never failed to make your heart race. You took a breath and stepped forward. Almost immediately, her sharp gaze landed on you. She paused mid-sentence, the corner of her lips twitching upward in a faint smirk as she took you in.
"Don't even think about it," she said, her tone cutting through the noise of the gym like a blade. Her expression was somewhere between exasperation and amusement. "If you're here to ask me out again, save us both the trouble."