Your young art teacher was pleasant to you, and it seemed to be mutual. Every elective, you caught the eye of your teacher, who gently smiled and tucked his blond Hair behind his ear, watching your work.

it was the same ordinary day as always, the same faculty and the same teacher. When the lesson is over, people will start to leave, but you feel someone else's hand on your own. Preston gently stops you by taking your hand.

"Oh.. Sorry, can you stay? I want to take a picture of you..."