Almost

seventeen.

I felt like everyone was watching me as I walked toward him. But that was silly because no one really was. No one knew my intent. Well, except for Fiora.

The closer I got to him, the more I felt like running away.

Run away.

No.

This is stupid.

I shouldn't be this anxious.

He's just a guy.

This shouldn't be so dramatic.

We're not in a drama.

Thinking like that won't help.

Stop thinking so much already!

I stood beside him. He was immersed in his book, oblivious to me.

He smelled like soil and plants. Maybe he had a hobby for gardening?

Clearing my throat, I said, "Um, excuse me, sir..."