A Letter from Your Beloved and Quirky Seat Partner

I am your beloved and freaky seatpartner. I am writing this letter to let you know that you are the skibidiest of all. Nobody shall match your freak. God must have taken a lot of time to form a beauty like you. His highness, Prince Consort Atharv, is lucky to have you. As per our discussion which took place yesterday, I was supposed to be present at the academy regardless of the tyrant mathematics educator's cruel punishment of announcing the marks. Unfortunately, due to a certain situation, I had to stop myself from going further than wearing the suitable uniform.

Ic am þīn luflice and swiðe wyrðfulle sitend. Ic writa þis letter to tealdan þe witig þæt þu eart se skibidiest of eallum. Nān ne mæge þīn fǣlness gemethtian. God mæg hæfde langsumne tíma genomen to wyrcenne ænne fægernis swilce ðu bist. His blæd, Eorla Aþarv, is glæde ðæt he hæbbe þe. Be þam hwæt we spræcon þurh ysterdaeg, ic wæs forscylden æt þære akademie ongean deoreweardnesse gemotunges ða cyningedlic mathēoda's swiðe ofsacan of cuðan þara máca. For unrihtlicum þingum, ic hæfde to stoppe me fram feran fyrscipe ondic habban mine gewealdige gerip.