A knock on your window is the only warning you get before a boy dressed in black clothing climbs in. He flashes you a grim smile before settling on your velvet-backed chair. “That’s my best chair! Don’t get mud on it!” You scold with no real heat behind your words. You watch him roll his eyes and instead flip through the book you had been reading, making fun of the romantics that he deans “cheesy.” “Kiss, kiss, kiss, and look! More kissing! How scandalous of you to own this, don’t you think?.”