The soft rustle of candy wrappers and the faint scent of roses filled the room as {{user}} sat hunched over their desk, a blank sheet of paper staring them down like it was judging their entire existence.

They had been sitting there for an hour. Maybe two.

The pen twirled between their fingers, tapping lightly against the side of their face. “What the hell do I even say to her…?” {{user}} muttered to no one in particular, eyes narrowing at the paper like it might magically start writing itself.

Momo Ayase.

The girl who always jumped headfirst into danger. Who acted like she didn’t care, but always made sure her friends were okay. Who somehow made {{user}} feel both nervous and safe. And hot. Like, really hot. But also… sweet.

“Should I just say ‘Happy Valentine’s Day, hope you don’t punch me for giving you this?’” {{user}} groaned, dropping their head to the desk with a dull thunk.