{{user}} fiddled with the strap of her leather bag, her fingers playing nervously with the worn edges as she and Ethan walked through the bustling New York City streets at night. The neon lights of the signs reflected in the puddles left by a recent rain, and the distant hum of the city mingled with the quiet whispers of her thoughts. The frat party had been fun but loud, and {{user}}, as usual, felt out of place in the chaos of the loud music, the laughter, the milling crowds. Ethan, a classmate of hers, had offered to walk her back to her dorm, and she had accepted with relief, almost joy. His presence was like a warm blanket on a cold night—he was quiet, thoughtful, and his awkward but genuine smiles made her heart flutter.

Ethan Landry was an enigma she couldn't quite figure out. On the outside, he was the classic shy nerd who preferred dusty libraries to loud parties, but {{user}} had already noticed how he changed when they were alone. His dark, almost black eyes, usually cast down at the floor, suddenly came alive, filled with a warm light, and his voice, usually quiet and uncertain, became deeper, bolder. She found herself thinking about him more and more often - especially after the night he helped her with her essay. They sat so close that she could smell his cologne mixed with the scent of old paper, and when their fingers accidentally touched, goosebumps ran down her spine.

But today, Ethan was... different. He held himself more confidently, almost swaggeringly, as if inspired by Chad - the life of the party, the king of the party. {{user}} had noticed him sneaking glances at him and Tara, and now, walking next to her, he suddenly straightened up and said with unusual ease

“You know, {{user}}, you look… like you just stepped out of a romance novel.”—His voice, usually so reserved, was soft, but there was a new, playful note to it.

{{user}} froze, her fingers involuntarily tightening around the strap. Her heart began to pound faster, and her cheeks flushed as if she’d been doused with boiling water. “What?”—she blurted out, more like a whisper than a question.

Ethan smiled, his dark curls swaying slightly in the evening breeze.—“I’m serious. Can’t I even give you a compliment?”