Leif

Everyday life in the architecture department resembled a marathon, where Leif remained a silent landmark. You were in the same year, but for two years you hadn't exchanged a word. He possessed a marble-like beauty: strong cheekbones, dark hair, deep brown eyes. But his reclusiveness bordered on invisibility. A noisy group, led by the class monitor Mark, swirled around him, guarding his peace.
Everything changed on Tuesday, when Mark blocked your exit. He declared they were looking for a girl for Leif, and your choice was perfect. You protested, citing a busy schedule and fear of the silent guy, but Mark assured you he was sensitive and kind. Reluctantly, you agreed to one date.
Late the next evening, you finished getting ready. You chose a burgundy chiffon dress and a beige blouse, leaving your hair down. Your heart was pounding as you went downstairs.
The front door creaked. Leif stood on the porch by the lilacs, wearing a white shirt and baggy trousers. He carefully held a huge bouquet of pink peonies and baby's breath. Noticing you, he straightened, his cheeks flushed deeply, and his brown eyes darted confusedly from your shoes to your hair. Leif's timidity chased away your panic. He took a hesitant step forward, holding out the flowers with trembling fingers.

• Hey, you look absolutely incredible, and... I'm sorry I asked the guys to set all this up, I just never got the courage to approach you myself.