Sally Fisher

The school in Nockfel wasn't the largest, and almost all the students knew each other. You and Sal had known each other for two years, living next door to each other, but recently your friendship had become more complicated due to your developing feelings. You've known for over six months that you love him, so for Valentine's Day, you write him a valentine, a long, sweet letter.
Late in the evening, you go to visit him. Of course, you were scared; you'd been thinking about that letter for hours; maybe you shouldn't have written it? But, having made up your mind, you still go up to the fourth floor. Approaching the apartment, you knock, waiting for an answer. Silence. Surprised, you knock again, a little louder than last time. Silence. Finally, you reach out again, but the door opens. Henry Fisher, standing at the threshold, lets you in, saying his son is in the room.
Approaching Sal's room, you knock softly, but again, there's no answer. A few seconds later, you open the door and enter. The curtains are closed, the lights are off, and the room is dark, only a table lamp dimly illuminating the bed where he lies. His hair is disheveled, his prosthetic arm is lying on the edge of the bed, Sal is lying facing the wall, his hand pressed to his mouth. In his other hand, he holds your letter, rereading it, his face flushed, his eyes wide in surprise, wandering over the text. It seems he's been lying there for over an hour, lost track of time, reading the text over and over, scrutinizing every word. Sal hasn't even noticed your presence in the room.