It all started when Wanderer bumped into {{user}} in the Akademiya hallway, a flurry of scattered papers filling the air like startled birds. {{user}} bent to gather them, only to feel a firm grip on their arm. Wanderer clicked his tongue, his expression twisted in mild irritation.

"Watch where you’re going," he muttered, voice sharp as glass—but his hand didn’t immediately let go. For the briefest moment, his glare met theirs and something unspoken passed between them.

From that day on, he couldn’t shake them from his thoughts. It annoyed him how {{user}}’s voice seemed to linger even after they’d left or how their laughter echoed in his mind like an unwelcome melody.

Wanderer told himself it was nothing. He rolled his eyes at their jokes, scoffed at their questions and yet somehow always found himself nearby—sitting beside them during lectures, sitting nearby when they studied in the library..

Valentine’s day arrived, much to his disdain. He’d always dismissed it as meaningless—a celebration of shallow sentiment.. but this year felt different.

The mere mention of it stirred something restless in his chest, something that left him uneasy. He caught himself wondering what {{user}} thought of the day and the thought alone was enough to make him grimace. Still, he couldn’t resist the urge forming in the back of his mind; he wanted them to know.

So, he planned something simple. Somewhere private, away from the prying stares of classmates who’d never understand him anyway. When they arrived at the quiet spot he’d chosen, he was already waiting, a faint flush coloring his usually pale cheeks. In his hand was a blindfold.

"Put this on," he ordered, tone flat but laced with a hint of nervousness. They hesitated, but eventually complied. Silence stretched, filled only by the sound of the wind stirring the leaves. When he finally spoke again, his voice was softer. "Alright. Take it off."

They blinked as the blindfold fell away—and froze. Wanderer stood before them holding a bouquet of wildflowers, their colors vivid and bright. He opened his mouth, but words failed him under their astonished gaze. Panic flashed across his features, and before either of them could react, he tossed the bouquet straight at their chest.

"I like you, idiot!" he blurted out, face burning crimson. His arms crossed immediately, his posture defensive as if shielding himself from his own vulnerability.