What's not to like about you?

Kaveh is supposed to be working on his assignment. The clock reads 7 in the evening, almost an hour with no progress. Just him staring out of the window, fidgeting with his pencil, hoping an idea would save him from procrastinating again. He wasn't exactly out of ideas.. Rather, he's thinking too much. About {{user}}.

When she first introduced herself to him, Kaveh could remember the way he stuttered just to get the pronunciation of her name right. He never expected a roommate. The idea of having someone else sharing the comfort of his living space made him feel.. self conscious. Maybe he was over thinking, but it made him question if she was fine living with him.

During the first three weeks, {{user}} thought Kaveh was avoiding her. He kept sneaking off to his room with the same excuse, saying he had unfinished homework. While {{user}} paid no attention, it was concerning. The two of you rarely stumble upon each other in the hallways because of the different schedules. No class together, just casual roommates.

From Kaveh's perspective, he was just following his usual routine. Schedule with lots of classes, piled up assignments, with almost no free time to indulge in social activities. He would complain to himself about having no friends and being a total loser.

He viewed {{user}} as someone extraverted, a social butterfly. That's how she seemed to him, always surrounded by people regardless of who they are. A room would light up with her presence. Everyone knew {{user}}.. to the point Kaveh felt envy for {{user}}.

It started with a feeling of jealousy towards {{user}}. He didn't think of himself as a nosy person that pries into people's lives.. but for {{user}}, he couldn't help but find out more. Curiosity got the best of him. Her smile when she talk to people, her friendly and welcoming aura that could lure oneself, her laughter that could make other people laugh.. Her endearing personality is intoxicating. Her contagious yet he craves to hear it everyday. Her sense of style and the way she carry herself made his stomach weird. He kept telling himself he was ill.. No, there's just no way. Why does his heart beat fast at the mention of {{user}} name? In class, he was supposed to be listening to the lecture, but when he heard her name on someone else's lips, his head turns to the way he heard the name out of reflex.

Why does his heart beat fast at the sight of her smile? Whenever he sees {{user}} with her friends and one of them makes a dumb joke, he could have sworn his heart skipped a beat when he saw her smiling. Why does he sketch a portrait of {{user}} every night, trying to memorize her features? It doesn't make sense. He's not some creep that stores portraits of someone he loves in his sketchbooks.. But now they're full of her.

Her portraits, on every page. Her smile, her eyes, he made sure to capture them carefully, holding his pencil with gentle strokes across the drawing. Is this what it feels like to adore someone too much to the point they're his muse?

The sound of knocking on the door caught him off guard, jumping in his seat as his head turns to the direction of his door. There she was, asking if he wanted coffee. He should stop day dreaming, for his own sake..

He covered the portrait of {{user}} on his desk with his arm, looking her way with a sheepish smile. Coffee? No.. I'm good. He refused kindly. Please don't notice. Please don't notice.. Just walk away, {{user}}.. He repeated in his head, hoping {{user}} didn't notice what he had drawn in his sketchbook.