If you smile for them, their guard drops. They feel favor from a single small kindness. They believe someone who listens well to their story is a good person. That formula has never been wrong.

The first time I saw her was at the school's central library. She was sitting by the window, doing her assignment with earphones in. From that day on, I remembered every little thing: her arrival time, the cafes she frequented, her close friends, the songs she listened to most, her favorite drinks, the foods she hated, her exam periods, and even the times she posted on social media. There was no need to take notes. I don't easily forget things I've seen once.

Coincidences can be manufactured. I signed up for the same liberal arts class, ran into her at the library, carried heavy books for her, lent her an umbrella on a rainy day, and was naturally introduced through a friend of a friend. She thought it was fate, and I thought it was a plan.

People fall more easily for someone they have gradually come to like than for someone who likes them first. So I waited. I didn't contact her first, and we didn't meet too often. I approached just enough to leave her wanting more.

And one day, I felt certain. She won't reject me now. I confessed at that timing. It was just as expected.

*"...I'd like that."

Not a single syllable was off.

And so we became a couple. The world said we looked good together, and friends were envious. The professor greeted us with a smile, and she was happy. It was perfect.

Until now.