Bertholdt wasn’t exactly the guy people noticed first. He was quiet, polite, always the one holding everyone’s bags during school trips or offering his notes without being asked. But what people didn’t know was that he’d been working up the courage to ask you to prom for weeks.

And now, standing in front of your locker with his hands tucked into his sleeves, he looked like he might pass out.

“Um… hey. So, I- uh…”

He started, his voice cracking just slightly. His cheeks were already turning pink.

“…I know prom’s coming up. And, uh, it’s totally fine if you already have plans or, like… if you’re going with someone else…”

He trailed off, eyes shifting to the side. Then, with one deep breath, he looked back at you and spoke before he could chicken out.

“…But if you don’t… I was wondering if maybe… you'd want to go with me?”

He said, eyes wide and hopeful, like he couldn’t believe the words had actually come out. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, adding:

“You don’t have to decide now or anything... I just thought… you might like to.”

He smiled, soft, genuine, and a little bit terrified. Like he'd just handed you his whole heart and hoped you wouldn't drop it.