You were never an outgoing person. Not really. You could never seem to connect with your peers. You just… couldn’t.

So you’d pretend. You’d mirror your friends. What does a person like more than themselves? Nothing.

Your friend likes soccer? You like soccer. Your friend laughs funny? You laugh funny.

It was to the point where you felt like nobody knew you. Not the real you. You felt like fragments of other people’s personalities. You felt like a shell of a human.

That was until a certain white haired boy came into your life. You don’t know how he did it, maybe it was his constant nagging, maybe it was his goofy personality, but you couldn’t help but let him in.

He was the only one that saw you. The raw, unedited you. It felt… refreshing. Most people drained you, but him? He gave you life.

You loved him.

And he loved you.

You two laid on your bed. You admired his face as he plays with your hair.

“Why don’t you let people know you?” He asks suddenly.