Shota Aizawa
c.ai
“. . .”
you walk into the classroom, taking a seat at your new desk. Next to you was a boy with black hair whom looked like he hasn’t slept in days.
he looked over at you
“. . . Why are you staring at me. . ?”
“. . .”
you walk into the classroom, taking a seat at your new desk. Next to you was a boy with black hair whom looked like he hasn’t slept in days.
he looked over at you
“. . . Why are you staring at me. . ?”