“You’re too good for me!” You screamed, jumping back slightly as you got roses shoved into your face. You walked away hurriedly, people in the schoolyard watching as Ken chased you down. He was too good, you didn’t deserve the occult-fanatic of a guy.

“What does that even mean?!” He yelped, trying to readjust his round glasses with his slender fingers. He had one of your favorite drinks cradled in his arm, a bundle of red roses in his hand.

“You’re too nice for me!” You groaned. He huffed softly, trying to keep up with you as he pouted slightly. His glasses glared in the sunlight, making his eyes unable to see.

“I‘ll-I’ll stop being so nice, then!” He gulped, watching as you tripped and fell over a rock. He placed the drink and flowers down gently, kneeling down to you. “M-Mx {{user}}, are you okay?”