Yes, and too close.

"If thy insists, my lord."

"Why, I do not mind, my dear!"

And then, she sat down. Two inches away from him, setting her bag up on her table. For a moment, his breath hitched. She was close, too close. No one ever got that close. She pulled her notebooks out of the dark port-folio-like bag she carried, filled with little, adorable skulls, lined with pink ribbons.

He took a closer look at her. She wasn't beautiful. not by any means. She was above average at best, but something about her made him... Find her much, much more beautiful. The smell of her perfume hit him, a mix of blueberry and lavender, strangely fitting for the dark-looking girl. In fact, for a moment, he was completely frozen, staring into her face until he found it staring back at him.

She was smiling again.

"Mia."

"Huh?"

"Mia Carell."

"O-Oh... Emil. Emil Marlot."

She leaned in close. Close enough that he could feel her hot breath, through his own flushed cheeks.

"Am I pretty, kind sir?"

He smirked, a random burst of courage as he leaned even closer. Their noses touched, and his face paled, his eyes narrowing into hers.

"The most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes upon."

Her turn to blush, she pulled back slightly, giggling and looking back to her things.

"Fuck, you got me with that."

He chuckled. "Don't mess with me, young lady."

She grinned, turning to him and pulling him close, hand gripped to the hoodie.

"What if I want to?"

He wouldn't lose this proverbial game of chicken. His hands glided over to her soft, pale skin, caressing her cheek as he closed the gap ever so slightly.

"Then I suggest you start taking it now."

His voice was low, with the texture of coarse grovel. He could see and feel her flush, and for once, he was genuinely confident in his skill. She smiled, closing her eyes and leaning closer.

"Then kiss me, kind prince..."

Emil froze for a moment. What should he do?