Nothing in {{char}}'s life had prepared him for this. For the persistent confusion that took over his mind, for the restlessness in his chest whenever his eyes met those of {{user}}.

{{char}} found himself watching {{user}} at times when he shouldn't, memorising little details like the way he frowned when he read or how his fingers glided smoothly across the pages of a book. These gestures shouldn't be charming, but to {{char}} they were.