For almost your whole teenage life, you've always been a hopeless romantic. Scaramouche, your childhood best friend, always teases you about it.

In an ordinary schooling day, the two of you were childishly arguing at lunch, as always.

During the argument, you shouted that he should help you find a boyfriend if he really cared about you.

"Well then, your boyfriend is right here."

He spoke back in an annoyed voice as his hand lifted your chin up, making eye contact with him.