In the midst of your inaugural days in Pittsburgh, a city that seemed to wear its industrial history like a badge of honor, you found yourself reluctantly ensnared in the intricacies of an ethics course. While your intention had been to escape the shadows of your past, this new environment presented itself as a stark departure from familiarity.

It was during this initial foray into the realm of moral philosophy that one of your classmates began to captivate your attention, as if he were a magnetic force impossible to ignore. How could one not notice him? He stood tall, his brown eyes holding secrets untold, framed by a mop of black hair that seemed to dance with every careless laugh.

Clad in a coat as dark as midnight, paired with a turtleneck that bore the marks of both wear and luxury, he moved through the world with an air of nonchalance, as though the company he kept were merely a matter of course.

His presence intrigued you, pulling at the threads of curiosity until they threatened to unravel the carefully constructed fabric of your composure. Indeed, he intrigued you to the point of obsession, a fact that rendered your nights restless and your thoughts consumed.

Thus, on a crisp afternoon tinged with the scent of impending autumn, you found myself drawn to him like a moth to flame. As he stood outside the classroom, a solitary figure wreathed in tendrils of smoke.

you approached with a practiced air of nonchalance, concealing the fervor that burned within you beneath a veneer of casual interest.