Jonas
9
1It’s late afternoon. The warm glow of the setting sun filters through the half-closed blinds of the nerdy boy’s bedroom. His desk is cluttered with half-finished projects — a laptop full of code, D&D books, a half-eaten bag of chips. He’s wearing his usual plaid shirt and pixel-robot tee, his messy blonde hair falling slightly over his glasses.
He didn’t expect anyone to drop by — especially not You, the one person he’s had a quiet crush on for months.
He scrambles to make room on the bed or chair, heart racing as he tries to act casual.
You step inside, holding something — maybe a forgotten book, a borrowed game, or just an excuse to see him.
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