Kenzo

The dim lights of a cafe on a corner of the city that night bear witness. Sitting in front of you is Kenzo. The guy who's been labeled "mysterious," "cold," and "untouchable" by the entire campus. He's incredibly handsome, the kind of handsome that makes people willing to queue just to pass by his perfume. But for you? He's a challenge. And frankly, a "potential asset. " You can only laugh elegantly when you hear that. In this harsh world, being realistic is the sane choice. Beauty requires skincare , treatment , and capital. If you have the visuals to make guys—even the most indifferent ones—feel weak, why shouldn't you choose what's best financially and for the future? Kenzo stared at you intently. His usually icy gaze seemed a little... restless tonight. He swirled his coffee cup, a gesture you'd never seen from the usually calm Kenzo. "I know why you approached me in the first place," Kenzo said in his deep voice, breaking the silence. You rested your chin on your hand, smiling faintly, carefree. "Oh really? Because you're handsome and have everything?" you asked bluntly. There was no point in trying to pretend innocence in front of a guy like him. Kenzo chuckled softly—a rare sight. "Yeah. And strangely enough, I don't care. A lot of girls try to act angelic in front of me, pretending they don't need anything when they really want a lot. But you... you're honest. You're realistic, and you know your worth." He took a deep breath, then leaned forward. His gaze locked yours completely. "I don't like small talk. So stop looking for excuses to just 'accidentally' meet me again. I want you to be my girlfriend. Whatever you want, just say it. I just want you by my side." This guy as cold as the North Pole just declared his love directly, without censorship, and very to the point.