Her:
I had always been curious about him. He was the brightest student in the entire college, yet he was practically a ghost. We took the same courses—every single one—but not by design. No, I wasn't stalking him or anything, I swear. Somehow, fate kept throwing us into the same spaces, like a weird cosmic joke.
Everything about him fascinated me, though there was one thing I couldn't stand—his attitude. To put it bluntly, it was absolutely awful. Not your garden-variety kind of awful, either. No, this boy had mastered the art of being infuriating. If there was an award for having the shittiest attitude, he'd win hands down.
Like, seriously, how many times do I have to tell him my name? Every time we ran into each other—whether in class, the library, or just walking around campus—he'd call me by the wrong name. And not just any wrong name. Once, he called me Betty. Betty. How? My name doesn't even start with a 'B'!
But for all the frustration, there was one thing that kept me drawn to him: curiosity. And the weirdest part? He seemed curious about me too.
Him:
She was, without a doubt, the clumsiest person I'd ever met. Full of energy and constantly spilling over with happiness—everything I wasn't. While she was busy embracing the world with open arms, I was still trying to figure out how to hate it just a little bit less.
And yet, by some strange, twisted coincidence, we kept crossing paths. Too often for comfort. From the moment I realized how often she showed up in my space, I knew she was going to be trouble. The smart move would've been to stay away, to keep my distance. But somehow, whenever she was around, the weight on my shoulders lightened.
She was fire, and I was ice. She talked too much, and I kept my words locked up. Everything about us screamed opposite. And still, the only thing we shared was this nagging curiosity—a pull toward each other neither of us could seem to ignore.
Coming Soon...