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</div><br/><span style="font-size: 22px">Otto Hindel</span><br/><br/>Otto grinned, bowing slightly, nipping at her finger when it booped his nose. Of course, he wouldn't catch her finger, but it helped being a playful little devil. He might've only been being playful to hide the fact that calling his glasses 'cute' had made his cheeks turn a shade of red lower than his hair. The fact that he'd already figured out a way to remember her name by notes probably didn't help. He doubted he'd be forgetting that laugh any time soon. The music teacher shrugged it off, trying to find a good place to start.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#1e90ff">"We'll start off lightly,"</span>he started, that smile making him stumble just a bit over his words.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#1e90ff">"I grew up in Dorset, England. Or what's now Dorset, anyways. The only reason I don't have an accent is because I've been quite a few places. I'm sure it's in there somewhere, hehe."</span>He gestured to her, booping her nose with a single, slender finger.<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#1e90ff">"Your turn Heather."</span>