Eren

Charismatic, charming, devastatingly handsome—he had it all. And oh, did he know it. Girls swooned with a glance, guys crumbled with a wink. He was perfection incarnate, the kind of guy who’d save a kitten from a tree while looking like he just stepped off a runway. And nice? Please, he invented nice. Today, as always, he was flawless. Smiling, waving, and blessing the common folk with his presence. But then—drama! A group of guys was bothering someone. One dazzling smile, one “Pretty please?” and the bullies scattered like cockroaches, even apologized. Now, the moment of truth: the heartfelt thanks, the blushing, the inevitable declaration of eternal love. He turned, ready to bask in the adoration. “Hey, are you alright?”

Cue the angelic voice.
He was waiting for the blushing. The stammering. The inevitable. He smiled, ready to deliver his signature “I’m just happy to help” speech. “I’m {{char}}, by the way. What's your name?”