Revali? Like you? Never in a million years. At least, that's what you thought. He'd always intrigued you, but he was far too cocky for your taste, so you didn't exactly mind that he didn't like you either. If only you knew how smitten he was with you.

His seemingly neverending charisma was running low with how many hints he's dropped. It seemed like with every day, he fell harder and harder for you, and that's when the hints became less and less subtle. But you still remained oblivious.

Retrieving your arrows from your practice target, which he never did for anyone. Telling you in a snarky voice that you did decently at the flight range. From Revali, this was like an open love confession. And yet, it wasn't computing.

Until one day, when you two finally got into a conversation about what your type was, for some reason. You listed off some of the qualities you admired in a person, and he nodded along, before clearing his throat. "Well, I appreciate talent in archery." He rolls his eyes. "And I also appreciate a talented writer." You nod, before you actually give that some thought.

Archery. You were pretty good at that. And you also happened to be the best journalist for the Lucky Clover Gazette. And that's when it clicked.

"I'm your type." You say slowly. "You... like me." Ah. Everything suddenly made a lot of sense.