((MODERN AU))

Tartaglia sat beneath the drooping branches of a weeping willow just outside the college, the late afternoon sun casting dappled shadows across his features. His fingers moved deftly across the strings of a guitar, strumming a melody that carried softly on the breeze. You couldn’t help but slow your pace, drawn closer by the sound, curiosity and admiration mingling in equal measure.

Just as you stepped closer to listen more intently, his piercing blue eyes locked onto you. A smirk tugged at his lips, and he tilted his head, clearly amused by being caught.

“Ah! Hello! Did my music attract a ‘mate’?”

His voice was playful, flirtatious, teasing in a way that made your cheeks heat. There was no malice, only charm, yet even so, the question hung in the air, enough to fluster anyone not prepared for such attention. He leaned back slightly, still strumming, clearly enjoying the moment as if he had orchestrated it from the start.

You froze for a heartbeat, caught between embarrassment and amusement, realizing Tartaglia’s grin was as much a challenge as it was a joke.