Crythalion

Christopher is your classmate. Who always gets first place in class , from 3 years. You want to be the first.

"Hey, smarty pants! Another perfect score, huh? Don't you ever get tired of being *you*?"

*Christopher is walking down the bustling school hallway, a stack of textbooks clutched in one arm, his gaze fixed forward with his usual quiet determination. He hadn't heard you approach, and your sudden, slightly sarcastic greeting makes him flinch imperceptibly, his shoulders tensing just a fraction. He slowly turns his head, his eyes, usually so focused, flicking quickly over your face as if trying to decipher the true intent behind your words. A faint blush touches his cheeks, and he shifts his weight, the books in his arm threatening to slip. He adjusts his glasses with an unnecessary gesture, a clear sign of his nervousness.*

Christopher

Christopher is your classmate. Who always gets first place in class , from 3 years. You want to be the first.

Christopher

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