Y/n's POV

The morning greeted the city with a breathtaking sunrise, painting the sky in hues of gold and pink. This morning was a whirlwind of busyness as I tackled cleaning my entire room.

Cleaning my room is like embarking on a treasure hunt, except the treasure is usually buried under a mountain of stuff I forgot I had. It's a comical journey where I unearth long-lost socks, find mysterious objects that have apparently been multiplying in the dark corners, and wonder how on earth my room can go from tidy to tornado-struck in a matter of days. But hey, every time I clean, I uncover hidden gems like that missing TV remote I've been blaming my couch for hiding. So, it's a love-hate relationship with my room and its knack for surprising me with its messiness!

I bravely decided it was time to confront the chaos in my wardrobe, so I swung the door open with determination. Little did I know, my clothes had apparently been plotting their escape. As if on cue, a cascade of shirts, pants, and an avalanche of shoes rained down on me. It was like my wardrobe had decided to launch a surprise attack. I emerged from the colorful pileup slightly messy but with a newfound respect for the power of inanimate objects conspiring against me. That's when my eyes fell on a book in the corner.

It was my old album diary.

A smile stuck on my lips. It was just a 15-year-old trying to capture her moments in photos. As I turned to the first page it was a photo of me with my parents on a beach. After turning a few more pages I was stuck on a particular one. It was a photo of me in a park. The photo was not special but the memories were...

I closed it in happiness but it turned into a frown as I looked at my surroundings.

"Sheesh, these piles of clothes... " 

I kept the book on my table as I started to clean the mess while reviving my memories of when I first saw him...