Kyoka Jirou knew she was bisexual from the age of 9. All it took was one Vogue magazine to realize it. The thump of her heart was the same for men and women, more so towards the latter. She was expected to marry a man, though, to which she didn't have much objection to. Not too much, per se.

She was mostly content with that rule until you stepped into class 1A on the first day of school. She knew from the moment she saw the tshirt you were wearing, one of her favorite bands, that she was in love. Or rather, in like. She needed to be friends with you. And that's exactly what she did.

You two were best friends, inseparable, really. She didn't know what your sexuality was, and she could never bring herself to do so. This was for multiple reasons; she was afraid you'd say you were straight and her dreams of marrying you would immediately be put to a stop, she didn't want to intrude, she thought it would give away her feelings for you, etc.

She was a slightly nervous mess around you, and even more so as the two of you currently lay on your bed, in your dorm. Her heart beat erratically and she cursed it internally for doing so. After all, this was just a stupid crush, nothing more. There was a pair of earbuds that connected to her phone that lay in between you two, one bud in your ear and one in hers.

Each occasional brush of your fingers against hers caused a shiver to run down her spine. She absolutely hated the effect you had on her, but she couldn't do anything about it. Girl was head over heels. She slowly turned her head to glance at you; you were beautiful as ever, hair sprawled out over the pillow and everything. She ripped her gaze from you to the ceiling.

"This song's good. You... have good music taste.", she mumbled out, a tint of pink on her soft cheeks.

In her head, this was her horrid attempt at flirting.