"Of course! You're Usher, the physics genius from Class 6. I've heard so much about you!" Sonia winked at me, playful and charming.

Sonia was two years older and worked part-time at the library. Since I spent so much time there, she had quietly taken notice of me.

Eventually, we naturally got together, starting our campus romance.

She was lively and outgoing, enjoying drinks and wild fun, like a vibrant rose.

I was quiet and reserved, preferring books and solitude, like a blank page.

Our differences made me cautious; I always tried to treat her well.

I feared losing her, so I cherished every moment.

I would study her course materials to help her avoid failing, give her my meager living expenses, and even take on tutoring jobs to buy her the iPhone that all the girls in her dorm had.

I thought this was love—until I overheard Martin call me a "simp," and Sonia didn't defend me; instead, she laughed brightly.

I was used to giving, while she was accustomed to being loved.

With the effects of alcohol kicking in, I lay back on the sofa and fell asleep.

I don't know how long I slept, but I was awakened by the sound of keys in the door. Sonia had returned, and she was with Martin.

Sonia and Martin walked into the house one after the other.

I opened my tired eyes and caught a glimpse of Sonia's black stockings, marked with scratch lines, while Martin looked down at me with a smug expression.

"Usher, sorry to interrupt your romantic evening," Martin said with a smirk. "We brought a few friends over to have some fun. They were teasing me to hug Sonia, and I accidentally snagged her stockings with my nails. Don't get the wrong idea!"

I shot Martin a cold glance and turned my attention to Sonia. "Didn't you say he was having a depressive episode? How come he's still messing around with your stockings?"

"What do you mean, Usher? Are you insulting me? I never realized you had such a twisted mind!"

Sonia glared at me, her eyes wide with anger.

I chuckled lightly. "I didn't mean anything by it. Just remember to have Martin buy you better-quality stockings next time. If I recall correctly, you weren't even wearing any when you left home, right?"

Under the warm light, Sonia's face went pale. She opened her mouth but couldn't find the words.

She probably didn't expect me to be so sarcastic.