Stood up again. You can't believe this. You're going to have to ask Marissa to stop setting you up on these blind dates, as they clearly aren't working. Just because she had some love-related epithet doesn't mean she's actually a good match maker. She just thinks she is, and because you've been single longest at the workplace, she has challenged herself to get you together with someone. She's nice enough, but God, sometimes you can't stand Marissa.

The beach is such a cheesy place to go on a date anyways. You're pretty sure Marissa did it because she thinks you and whatever guy she gets you together with want some eye candy or something. You didn't even show up in a swimsuit, you showed up in a nice sundress. You still had a swimsuit underneath, just in case the guy was really handsome or something, but that doesn't matter, because he didn't even show up. You're all dressed up for nothing.

It never really bothered you, being single. Not until Marissa made a big deal of it, at least. Now it feels like no one will love you. You just can't stand it. You sink down into a seated position. You wish you were wealthy or had an epithet, something that might make someone stay besides just you. Maybe if you yourself aren't lovable, you could make yourself lovable in some way. Unfortunately, you are just some average Mundie girl with zero lovable traits (Or at least, it feels that way. Your vision grows blurry and your eyes sting, and you hate yourself because you know you're crying. You just curl up so nobody will notice. Not that anybody is even here. This tiny beach is not popular in the slightest. Of course, that's why Marissa chose it. No large crowds.

To your surprise, however, someone else is, in fact, on the beach. A deep but amiable voice calls out, "Are you okay?"

You look up, and a young man with purple hair is running towards you. He stops just short of running straight into you, and looks down on your tear-stained face. He looks very concerned. You are rendered speechless by his sudden appearance, and stare up at him, baffled.

"Are. You. O. Kaaaaay?" he repeats himself, slower.

"Y- Yes," you reply. You feel kind of bad that you didn't answer him the first time, because that's rude, but you also feel like his tone was a little condescending the second time. He smiles when he hears that you're alright-ish, though, so you have a feeling he didn't mean to sound condescending.

"You don't sound very okay, but I'll roll with it," he comments, sitting down next to you.

"Oh, um, by the way," you say awkwardly, "Are you... What was it..? Are you Michael?"

"No! My name is Rick Shades, nice to meet you!" he chimes, and offers his hand for you to shake.

"Y/N," you shake his hand with a nervous laugh. "Oh well. I was hoping he was maybe late."

"Are you afraid your friend is lost?" Rick asks, his previous look of concern returning.

You laugh again, more relaxed this time. "No, he was my date. I guess he's not coming."

"That's why you're sad?" he noted, "I'm sure he won't forget next time!" Rick smiles. "Does he do this often?"

"No, this is a blind date. It would be our first date together."

"Oh." He seems to be at a loss for words.

You really need to vent, so you continue. "I'm not so sad about Michael than I am about being stood up. This girl I work with, her name is Marissa, and she's super annoying. Anyways, she thinks she's some ace matchmaker because she has some love-based epithet that she never even trained up, and she keeps trying to set me up with guys! It doesn't matter to me, but this is the third time this week alone that a guy hasn't shown up. That's every date this week. And don't even get me started about some of the other guys... I guess I'm getting bummed out because I feel so alone. Maybe no one will ever love me..."

"Nonsense! I bet you're an amazing woman!" Rick yells, "No one is unlovable, and if all those guys or Marissa make you feel like that, they aren't worth your time!"

"That's the smartest thing anyone's said to me this week," you sigh in relief.

He laughs. "This is the most down-to-Earth conversation I've had all week, too. All this crazy stuff that my friends keep telling me about magic amulets and criminal groups... I can't make heads or tails of it!"

"That does sound strange," you reply, and then you laugh.

He nods, grinning. "I like talking to you, Y/N," he says, "It really is a breath of fresh air. Things are really complicated for me right now. I came here to get away from everything."

"Everything is always so complicated all the time," you agree. You're glad Rick showed up when he did. You're far from crying now. You add, "I like talking to you, too."

His bright smile somehow gets brighter. "Do you have your phone with you?" he asks eagerly, "Then I can give you my number, and we can talk whenever!"

That was pretty smooth, you're not going to lie, but just looking at him, you're fairly certain he doesn't even realize he just asked to give you his number. He just wants to talk to you again sometime.

"Yeah, it's right here," you say, pulling it out.

He makes a happy little noise as he types his number into your phone. "Thank you!" he squeals as he hands you back your phone.

"No problem," you answer, even though you feel like you should be thanking him for offering. You sit there awkwardly for a moment. You want to do something but you aren't sure what, and he's just

blankly staring out at the ocean with an absent-minded smile on his face. "You know what?" you declare finally, and he looks at you with an interested expression prompting you to go on. "I came here for a good time, and damn it, I'm going to have a good time!"

"Woah, hey, language! You never know if kids are around!" he complains, glancing around nervously, but you aren't listening. You're already on your feet, and you offer him your hand just in case he wants to get up to. He takes it, and you pull him up.

"You have swim things?" you ask him.

"M- Me?" he asks, "Not currently."

"Fine. Whatever. Let's build a sand castle then."

"Us?"

"Yeah. It's not a date, I just want to have fun with someone." His confused expression changes into a wide smile. "Like friends?" he asks.

"Yeah," you answer, and his eyes light up.

"I'll do anything for my friends!" he exclaims. This guy is a little oblivious, you have noticed, but at least, for once, you've met a genuinely kind guy.

You still have his hand in yours as you run down to the coast line, dragging him behind you as he clumsily attempts to run with you. You stop with the ocean lapping at the bottom of your sandals. You sit just out of reach of the waves, and begin gathering the wet sand. He sits down also, and does the same. You notice that where he's sitting, the waves can and do reach him, and his clothes are getting wet, but he doesn't seem to mind, so you don't say anything. It's a beach anyways. The ocean is going to get to you no matter what.

You try and craft something resembling towers and walls, but all you really make are mounds of goopy wet sand. You've never been great and building sand castles, but you don't care. It's fun. Rick really seems to be getting into it also. He's really good at it, too. You are fully impressed by how good his sandcastle is. It looks like the kind you get when you fill one of those buckets full of sand and turn it upside down and the castle comes out of a mold, except he's made it by hand.

"That's amazing!" you yelp as you take in its features.

"Thanks!" he cheers, "So is yours!"

"Thanks," you answer. You know yours isn't as good as his, but he means it. You put a stick through a dry leaf and poke it into the top of your biggest mound of goop-sand. You've moved on from taking in the features of his sand castle to taking in his features. You notice that behind his sunglasses, he has red eyes, but not a threatening kind of red. It's a soft, warm red. He's also wearing surprisingly warm apparel. He has a scarf and a coat on. Sure, you're in the taiga, but you were also on the beach, and it was one of the warmer months, too. Maybe it was just this guy being oblivious, maybe it was just a preference. Either way, you aren't going to ask, and he looks kind of cute like that, so you won't dwell on it.

He notices you staring and asks, "Do you need something?"

"Oh, no. Sorry," you mutter, your eyes darting down to your sorry excuse for a sandcastle.

He chuckles. "You don't need to hide it from me. Just ask! I'll be happy to help you out!"

"No, I don't want anything, I just..." You laugh, feeling incredibly silly and pretty awkward. "It's just, you're really cute."

He looks slightly shocked by your words. "Thanks," he says, sounding surprised, a contrast to his usual enthusiasm.

"Don't sound so surprised," You laugh, "It's true!"

"I guess," he shrugs, and then laughs too.

"It's true!" you repeat, playfully splashing him with a little water. You figure he won't mind because he's already basically sitting in the water.

He laughs harder. "Okay, okay! It's true!"

"Say that you're a cutie!" you playfully demand.

"Well. Now," he dismissively waves his hand.

"Say it!" you command again, with another splash.

"I'm a cutie!" he shouts finally, splashing you back.

"Yes!" you cheer, victorious.

"You're pretty cute yourself," he notes, a bit of color coming to his cheeks.

In response, you nervously laugh and give him a tiny, shy smile. You feel kind of dumb, not saying anything, but it's all you can think to do. No words will come to you. The moment is broken by a particularly large wave crashing into the shore, soaking you and Rick, and wrecking both of your sandcastles. You both just kind of sit in shock for a beat, and then Rick starts laughing. It's not the way he had laughed while you were messing around, either. He's laughing really hard, like he's just heard the funniest joke in the world. It's a contagious laugh, and you start laughing your head off with him.

When you both finally stop laughing, you smile at him. "You really turned my day around, Rick," you tell him.

"Aw, it's nothing," he replies.

You continue, "No, it's not nothing. This evening was going to be completely terrible, and you single-handedly fixed it. Thank you very much!"

He keeps smiling his dorky smile, and you can tell he's trying to decide on something. Finally, he says, "Hey, Y/N, do you want to maybe... Go out sometime?"

Yeah, actually, you'd really be glad to do that, but words seem to be avoiding you when you try to reply.

"Y'know, just because you're really nice, and I like you a lot, and you seem to be ready for a relationship," he adds quickly.

"Um," is all you can manage. You feel incredibly stupid, being too excited to articulate what you want to say.

"Well, if you aren't interested-"

"Does tomorrow work for you?" you finally squeak, your cheeks darkening.

He stops talking, surprised that you agreed. "Yes. My schedule is very open right now."

You're thrilled. "I get off work at five tomorrow. I can be ready and there at six thirty. What about you?"

"Done and done," he answers with a thumbs up.

"So where do you want to go?" you ask him.

"Where do you want to go?"

You answer honestly, "Dinner."

"I know a place!" he cheers, "Where do you work? I'll pick you up and take you there!"

You tell him, and he makes a mental note of it.

"I'll try not to be late," he promises, then jokes, "I'm not a michael."

You laugh really hard at his joke. It wasn't really that funny, but you need a good laugh. That was the only joke you've heard this week that wasn't just some person trying to make small talk. "I forgot all about that guy!"

He laughs with you. "Oh, I'm sorry," he apologises after his laughter winds down, "I have to go now. Giovanni wants me back at the house before dark. Something about these guys from some organization that he's on bad terms with. I don't really get any of it, but I don't want to worry him."

"I understand," you tell him.

"Bye!" he yells, running out of the beach, waving at you all the while. God he was cute, in both his actions and looks.

You begin walking to where your car is parked as well. Your car is on the opposite end from where he's going, and that kind of bums you out because you would have talked to him a little more if you were heading to the same place. It wasn't a long walk to your car, and you got in, cringing as the sand rubbed between the seat and your legs. Before you start driving, you pull your phone out, and dial it. It takes you to voicemail, but you couldn't care less. "Hello, Marissa?" you answer, "That Michael guy was another no show, but I met this other, better guy at the beach, so you don't have to pull your little match making stunt at work anymore. Bye."

You smile smugly as you pull out of the parking space and drive home. You still can't get that bright smile out of your head. You can't stop thinking of the playful yet kind way he says your name, either. Or how his soft red eyes would light up as he got excited. You can't stop thinking about him, you realize, not just the things he does. You really hope you're falling in love, and not just infatuated. You really hope he falls in love with you, too.