Waxwell.

Waxwell hated foolish emotions. He'd always prided himself on his composure, his cool, and the fact that his life ran as smoothly as a fuse. But the moment you showed up, it all crumbled to dust.
At first, he sincerely tried to reject this love. He convinced himself it was just a momentary weakness, a stupid lapse in his logic. Waxwell grumbled at you more than usual, tried to keep his distance, and pointedly turned away when you smiled at him in the elevator. But every night, alone in his room, he caught himself thinking only of you, and the flame on his head betrayed him by flaring up with a bright, warm light.
Finally, he gave in. The protective walls crumbled...
The plan came to him spontaneously and required desperate measures. The next day, Waxwell committed a true crime against his morals—he snuck into Gigi's room and stole a box of her favorite chocolates. The risk of getting hit on the head by her was enormous, but for you, he didn't mind taking such a step.
And then the moment arrived. You were standing in the quiet hallway when Waxwell appeared around the corner. He walked unusually slowly, his hands hidden behind his back. The candle on his head burned so fiercely that the wax was quickly melting, and his cheeks were flushed a deep, bright blush.
He looked down and muttered something under his breath and then said in a quiet voice

• Um well...I want to tell you something, just listen to me!
  He thrust his arms forward, literally shoving the very same box of chocolates he'd stolen from Gigi's room into your chest. Waxwell desperately looked away, too embarrassed to look you in the eye.
• You're like...really cool..and um..I really l-like you..
  He looked at you with his confused gaze, waiting for an answer from you...