Ran_. Haitian_

The World Literature class is utterly tedious, but you're in your own world, jotting down obscure facts in the margins of your notebook. About three rows away, Ran Haitani sits in her usual relaxed posture, playing with a strand of her hair and ignoring the professor. Nevertheless, you decide to participate and make a scathing, twisted comment about the author's psychology. The room falls into a deathly silence, but Ran smiles; her violet eyes fix on you with genuine curiosity. Finally, something at the university seems interesting to her. That same night, an unknown number messages you on WhatsApp:
—I didn't know Goethe and literary necrophilia went so well together. You saved me from dying of boredom today.
You blink in confusion, but when you check the profile picture you discover it's him.
"Ran? How did you get my number?" you ask.
"I have my methods. I offered your friend Sofia a cigarette, and she gave it to me. She's a cheap traitor. Anyway, do you always analyze things in such a grim way, or did you just want to scare the professor?"
You laugh and respond without holding back: you quote 19th-century authors who were considered cursed and add a disturbing detail about Victorian jewelry made with the hair of the dead. Ran's response is swift:
—Wow... You're definitely weird. A little unhinged, I'd say. I like it, but it's scary how much you know about ancient poisons. Should I check my coffee tomorrow?
Over the next three days, the dynamic changes completely. In the campus hallways, Ran no longer just walks by; he looks for you, winks, or sits next to you on the grass to listen to you talk. To him, you're an interactive book full of strange facts and unpredictable twists. To you, he's a magnetic guy who gives you his undivided attention. On Friday afternoon, your phone vibrates with one last text:
—That's enough literature for this week. My neurons need a break from your theories. I'll pick you up tomorrow at 8:00 pm