'My name is Petra Marie Ral. I'm 20 years old and one day hope to be on Broadway. Ever since I was little I was always interested in…"

The young woman growled in annoyance and shredded the piece of paper in front of her, the third piece of paper she'd gone through since taking her seat at the small coffee shop at the edge of her school campus. The old lady sitting in the corner booth gave her an odd look over the white ceramic mug she had tipped toward her mouth, but Petra ignored her. She had to get this ludicrous assignment done by tomorrow morning, and it was only pissing her off the more she thought about it. What was even the point of writing a self-introduction essay? The only one who was going to read it was the teacher, and it's not like they gave a damn anyway. She briefly considered bullshitting the entire thing, but her pride as a good student wouldn't allow it. She'd gotten straight A's all throughout high school, and being that this was her first year of college and classes just started, she wanted to at least try to not let her GPA slip yet.

She sighed and sat back in the booth she'd been occupying for the past half hour. Picking up the Styrofoam cup that was filled with her new obsession, the small café's hot chocolate, she blew at the steam billowing up from the dark liquid. The merry chime of the shop's door opening assaulted her ears as she tipped her head back and let the molten chocolate slide down her throat. She tried to ignore the blast of cold outside wind that the new patron brought with them, and refocused her attention on the task at hand as she set her drink down. This damned essay wasn't going to write itself.

"Let's see…" She mumbled, chewing on the clicky top of her pen, "Should I include a lot of childhood details? My parents divorced when I was five… but they got back together when I was thirteen… I don't have any brothers or sisters… Does the teacher want more details about my academic interests? I would assume so, since… well… she's a teacher…Uughh…" She groaned and dropped her head onto table, wishing she could absorb into the stained wood and not have to deal with this ridiculous assignment.

"Mrs. Howler's still at it, huh?"

Petra started at the sudden intrusion of a smooth, deep voice into her thoughts. She lifted her head, a heated blush spreading to her cheeks when a loose-leaf piece of paper stuck to her forehead as she looked up. She tore it away to leer at who had spoken. "W-what…?"

A young man stood at the end of the table she was seated at, looking down at the rubric for the assignment she was working on and the small mound of crumpled papers on the other end of the table. He was a few years older than her, maybe a senior (She assumed he attended the same school seeing as he was inside the campus coffee shop and knew the name of the teacher that had assigned this hell. Not to mention he was wearing the school's uniform), and had jet-black hair that was shaved short underneath a longer layer. What stood out the most to her, however, where his eyes, the same color as the ice coating the windows.

"..You took Freshman Choreography with Howler?" She scrutinized him, noting the lack of any real 'edgy' features. No piercings or visible tattoos. He wasn't wearing makeup, either. "You don't look like a theater student."

"Culinary arts," He stated simply, casually looking through the various rubrics and sheets of notes on the table, as if they didn't belong to a complete stranger. "I took Choreography as an elective. I hated that shitty introduction assignment. The worst part was having to read it to the rest of the class."

The color drained from Petra's face. "Wait… what? We have to present it to the rest of the class?! The teacher didn't say that!" She ripped the rubric out of his hands, quickly scanning it to see if it said somewhere on there. It didn't. Was this guy just fucking with her?

"Yeah, that's her thing. She doesn't tell you. Just a forewarning, the final for that class is to choreograph a solo dance, and she won't tell you until the day it's due that you have to perform it yourself in front of the rest of the class. Some sort of bullshit about 'You have to be prepared for anything on Broadway'."

Petra sobbed. She was a horrible dancer, and now she had a feeling she would hate this teacher. She was about to ask the stranger something else, when the barista's voice cut through the café.

"Caffe Americano with a mint shot for Levi!"

The young man looked up and nodded to the barista, who put his coffee on the counter before going to prepare the next order. Looking back to Petra, and then around to the rest of the shop, he let out a huff. "Mind if I sit with you…? Every other table is full."

"Umm.. s-sure…" Petra nodded, having no idea why she was stammering. She tidied up the surrounding table while he went to retrieve his drink, fighting back a blush. Why was she blushing? God damn, this was stupid. Is it because a guy was going to sit with her at a coffee shop? Is it because the guy was good looking? Because he was. It's not like this was a date or anything. For one, she didn't even know the guy's name.

Wait, no… that was a lie. The barista had called his name: Levi.

"Levi…?"

She'd heard whispers around the school, in just the few days she's been a student here, about a senior named Levi. Apparently all the girls in all her classes had the hots for him. Oooh boy! She could just see all the jealous looks she'd get if her classmates knew their precious Levi was sitting with her in the coffee shop!

While she was pondering how she'd soon be the most envied girl in the entire Freshman class, Levi returned with his coffee, settling into the booth across from her. He gave her an odd look that she didn't notice until she had snapped out of her thoughts, which she was certain was an uncomfortable amount of time later.

"What's wrong with you? You look constipated."

Petra's elated mood instantly deflated, and she now had a legitimate reason to blush. "I was just thinking about how to start this stupid essay…"

"Just start from the beginning. The goal of the assignment is to tell about yourself and, essentially, why you're taking the class."

"What did you write?" Petra asked, picking up her hot chocolate and draining the cup.

"It was so long ago I don't even remember." Levi took a sip of his own drink, and Petra noted the odd way he help his cup—around the rim instead of by the handle. Didn't the steam burn his palm?

She smirked. "You're a senior, right? So, it was only two or three years ago. That's not that long."

"Yeah, I'm a senior. But it was almost six years ago."

Petra's eyes widened. "Where you held back?" He didn't seem like someone who would flunk multiple times.

He shook his head. "I took a couple years off after my sophomore year…Personal reasons." He said nothing else, but there was a faraway look in his eyes, as if whatever those "personal reasons" were were painful to think about. Petra decided not to ask any more about it, though her curiosity was killing her.

"My name's Petra… by the way." She added, tentatively sticking out her hand. He took it and the shake was firm and short.

"Levi."

There was a period of silence after that where Petra went back to working on her essay and Levi sipped his coffee silently, staring out the window to the street beyond. Couples strode by hand-in-hand and Levi glared at them. Well, that's what it looked like but it might have just been a case of resting bitch face.

"So, you're mastering in Culinary arts, huh?" Petra broke the silence after several minutes, ripping out and crumpling yet another piece of paper. "That means you're a good cook, right? Your girlfriend must be one happy lady."

"I'm single."

Petra blushed. "O-oh… I could have sworn…"

Levi's stare turned from the window back to her. "I oftentimes tell girls that I already have a girlfriend so they'll leave me alone. You wouldn't believe how many desperate hussies there are at this school…"

She couldn't help but laugh, remembering the girls from her class, speaking of him as if he were some sort of god. "I guess I can't really blame you. You're really single though?"

"Mhmm."

"Shame."

Levi knit his eyebrows and looked curiously at her. "Why is that a shame?"

Petra felt her shyness evaporating. For some reason, she actually found Levi really easy to talk to. He was relatable. He hated the type of girls like the ones in her class. And, being the complete opposite of those types of girls, Petra had always avoided them as well. They both hated this damned introduction essay too, and had a thing for coffee shops on brisk autumn days.

"Well," she started, "That means that no one but you gets to taste your cooking. I bet you're really good at it."

"Tch…" He took another sip of his drink, still holding the cup in his odd way. That was another way that Petra could relate to him. They were both just a little bit strange. A little deranged. He held his cup in a funny way and made poop jokes. She, though she'd never tell anyone, was a huge nerd who obsessed over anime and manga.

"So, any idea what you're going to write yet? You could just bullshit the whole thing to make your classmates think you're cool."

Petra huffed, "Are you insinuating I'm not cool?"

"Well, you're sitting all alone in a coffee shop doing homework." Levi left the sentence at that, as if it were explanation enough of how not-cool she was, and she supposed he was right, though she still felt defiant. She glared at him, and he stared back at her with a bemused expression.

"Except I'm not alone. I've got another uncool loser sitting with me and distracting me from doing homework… Not that I mind, though." She added the last part in a rush, hoping not to insinuate that she wanted him to leave.

Levi brought the drink up to his lips again, but not before Petra caught site of a small smile on pale lips.