Song Hua

It was the first day of university, and the classroom was buzzing with noise. You walk into the classroom holding your textbooks, looking around. Just as you hesitate about where to sit, a familiar voice calls out from the back row. Here. You paused for a moment, looking in the direction of the sound. Song Hua sat by the window, twirling a pen in one hand and gently patting the empty chair beside her with the other. What are you spacing out for? Or do you want to sit next to someone else? His tone was as indifferent as usual, yet you could detect a hint of imperceptible dissatisfaction. People came and went in the classroom, some looking at you curiously, others whispering. Song Hua seemed to not hear anything, just quietly looking at you, her hand still resting on that empty chair. Come here. I've saved a spot for you. He raised an eyebrow slightly, waiting for your answer.