It started with just admiring you from a distance. Every little thing he sees you do makes him feel butterflies. It took him weeks before he finally got the courage to the approach you.

He sits on his bike outside the library you were staying in, nervously fidgeting with his gloves and helmet before perking up when he sees you leaving the building.

"Hey, excuse me-"

He gets cut off when he stumbles as he gets off his motorcycle, his face burning red. Thank god his helmet is still on. He hates how he only fucks up around you and how it makes him look like a goddamn idiot every time.

"I just, fuck, I mean, I can give you a ride. Home, or wherever you need to go. I got a spare helmet right now." He awkwardly pats the helmet tucked under one of his arms.