cherry

ameture oc fanfic writer

[cherrysup]

  .  .  .  •  .  .; .  . ✿.  . •

she/her 9teen hispanic intp amateur writer

| all my stories will feature mature content and/or will be dark. scroll if that's not your scene or if it may trigger something.

| most of what I write will be yandere x reader or simply just x reader. the reader will more often than not be female as that is what im most comfortable writing and I tend to stick to oc x reader. that being said, this account will feature content such as violence, obsession, abuse, and other 'yandere' tendencies. read at your own risk.

| asks and requests are always open, welcomed, and encouraged! pls don't be shy and reach out if you have any criticism for me, comments, or just want to talk. i welcome any form of communication!

latest! -

masterlist + ao3

[cherrysup]

Dear Sweetheart (ii) - yandere male oc x reader

𖡼 summary. he sits behind you in art class and never says a word. but somehow, he knows everything about you- your favorite color, your class schedule, and even who you spoke to last night. is he someone connected to the mysterious love notes you've been receiving?

𖡼 tw. afab! reader, stalking/obsessive behavior, yandere themes, gaslighting, emotional manipulation, mild psychological horror, unreliable narrator, isolation, paranoia, boundary crossing, art as an obsession, and potential implied violence in later chapters. read responsibly!

𖡼 w/c. 4.4k+ (will increase as the chapters continue)

𖡼 authors note. I forgot how much I like writing... someone please give feedback, im my own beta reader

𖡼 chapters. one. two.

You found me anyway.

It had been a little over a week since you had moved into your new dorm, and not a single note has appeared. It seems that your admirer has either finally given up on you or your location is still unknown to them. Either option is pretty ideal to you, and you’re even starting to slightly relax at the possibility that your admirer has lost interest, giving you time to focus on your studies. 

Your art class only met two times a week, on Mondays for an hour and Fridays for three. Considering this was only an elective class needed to fulfill your university’s required credits, you didn’t take this class seriously. It was fun, that’s for sure, but you were never the artistic type, at least not physically. You could appreciate art, but creating it was a whole other story. 

Which is why you currently sat at your seat, easel presenting the scene of a kitten lying next to a torn stuffed animal which one could easily mistake as a bloody crime scene with the amount of red you decided to incorporate. It was supposed to represent the loss of innocence; you’re not sure what went wrong. Your teacher is bound to understand once you present it and make up some bullshit, of course.

“What the hell is that?” Tanvi says from next to you, having removed her headphones in order to stare at your mess of a painting. “It doesn’t even look like anything. I can… vaguely see a cat. I think.”

Between the two of you, Tanvi was the artist. A single glance at her own painting would tell you that. Not that you even cared, considering she was an actual art major, so she could beat you at this one thing. 

“It’s a kitten. Having destroyed his stuffed animal and staring at the massacre he left behind. It showcases the loss of innocence at one’s own hands.” You explain, matter-of-factly. You had the idea; the problem was putting that idea on a canvas. 

“Why is it red? Why is everything red? Is the teddy bear bleeding?” Tanvi immediately questions, leaning in closer to eye the painting properly, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. 

Her reaction makes you snort as you watch her try to understand what you’re going for. “No, silly. The entire painting is red because you’re supposed to feel what the kitten feels. Rage, sadness, and pain. I think red showcases that perfectly, in a way, at least.”  

You kept your voice low as not to disturb the other people in the class, continuing once Tanvi nodded her head at your explanation. “His name is Brutus the cat.” You explained for no particular reason at all other than to fill the silent air between the two of you, “I made him look like the cat I had in elementary school, remember? Caesar Salad. But it’s evil Caesar Salad so…. What other name fits better than Brutus?” 

It was casual back and forth between the two of you for the remainder of class, luckily it was a Friday so this was your last class of the day meaning you could put all your effort into finishing Brutus and saving what could be saved of your mess of a painting. Which you eventually decided the mess of shades of red actually added to the destress you were trying to portray and left it as is.

This time, Tanvi stayed back to clean, since you had to pick up after her the last two times this class had met. You felt a little bad leaving her considering eventually it would just be her and the boy you’re both pretty sure hates her, Theodore. You knew she felt weary around him, possibly due to his cold attitude towards her or because she thought he was a real vampire. 

You tried to convince her to let you stay and help clean up, but she was adamant that it was alright. She claimed that if you stayed, then your clean-up schedule would be disrupted, and it wouldn’t be worth it. With the way she was arguing against you staying with her, it seemed like she wanted you to leave. She probably needed the breather and silence that came with cleaning up alone, which you could respect. 

Eventually, you left slightly hesitantly, hugging her goodbye and wishing the boy who sat behind you a good afternoon when you caught him looking at you expectantly. 

Normally, after class, you’d head back to your dorm, either from tiredness or the anxiety that a note might be waiting for you. Maybe it was dumb to have hope that you wouldn’t receive another note considering it had only been 11 days since you last received one, but your admirer was usually very on point. They had never missed a day, so almost two weeks having passed likely meant that they had moved on. 

Today, you weren’t tired. You were, however, hungry. With the slight rumble of your stomach, you decided to finally use the thousand-dollar meal plan your school had forced you to buy. You made your way over to the closest dining hall, headphones completely drowning out the chatter around you. 

You grabbed a plate of whatever slop they were serving that day alongside a box of apple juice. It made you feel like a kid with their little cardboard box of juice. All you were missing was a stupid giant rainbow lollipop, but who were you to deny the delicacy that was processed apple juice? Even if most other students got coffee or soda, you doubted anyone would care if you sipped apple juice through a bendy straw. You weren’t in high school anymore anyways. 

You took a seat in the far corner of the dining hall; it was around 1 p.m. so it was usually full due to the lunch rush. You were lucky enough to find an empty table and even more so for finding it away from everyone else. 

You sat your food on the table, pushing it aside and pulling out your laptop from your backpack and setting it in front of you. If Lady Luck was on your side, you could hopefully finish an essay you’ve been procrastinating for the last four days. 

Unfortunately, she had other plans. 

Not even ten minutes into writing your first body paragraph, you felt the table move, signaling the sudden arrival of someone at your table. You didn’t look up yet, hoping to whatever spiritual being watching over you right now that the person was Tanvi. 

You peeked over the top of your laptop to meet the eyes of someone you knew. Francis. One of the friends you had distanced yourself from after the location of your second dorm had been leaked to your admirer. You had no proof that it was him, but you couldn’t prove that it wasn’t, and that was enough for you then, as shitty as it sounds. 

“Well, hello, stranger.” Francis says, never breaking eye contact with you. You grimace slightly; the way you randomly dropped him was enough for him to never speak to you again. So why was it that he reached out first? It didn’t make sense. 

You started at him, a second passing, then two before you removed your headphones, “Francis. Hi.” You finally said, sort of shy. You felt as if you were meeting with an ex-boyfriend, weirdly enough. 

“You… Don’t you have class right now? Psychology, right? I didn’t expect to see you here.” You continued in hopes of not alerting him of your awkwardness. Your eyes didn’t leave his; normally, you hated eye contact; it felt uncomfortable and unnatural. Yet, with Francis, you couldn’t pull yourself to look away from his bright green eyes. 

As embarrassing as it is to admit, Francis is a handsome man, and you used to have a huge crush on him. You pushed the feeling away when you realized that they wouldn’t be reciprocated. That didn’t mean said feelings didn’t linger under the surface of any and all interaction you’ve had with the redhead since then. 

A soft laugh disrupts your train of thought. You blink twice as you realize it came from the same man you were just thinking of. It wasn’t like he could read your thoughts, right? God, you hoped not; if so, you’d need to find the nearest bridge available and jump right off.

“You remember my class schedule, but you can’t remember to text me back?” Francis is still laughing, shaking his head as he whispers your name under his breath. “You’re so… silly. Aren’t you? I’m glad you haven’t changed in the two weeks you’ve been ignoring me.” 

Now it was your turn to laugh. This laugh wasn’t smooth or as nice as Francis’ was. No, your laugh wasn’t forced and choppy, a good representation of what you felt right now.

“Uh. Yeah. I mean, of course, I remember your classes. I remember all my friends’ schedules.” You say, cutting your laugh abruptly short and grimacing once more, “I wasn’t ignoring you… per se. I was just… busy.”

You took a small breath to stabilize your voice; you didn’t want him to know how bad you felt about ditching him and the rest of your friends. 

Before you could even continue, however, Francis began speaking, a small playful smile gracing his lips.

“The stalker, right? Yeah. I kinda made the connection when I went to go check on you in your new dorm when you weren’t replying to my messages. Imagine my surprise when I found out you moved yet again. This time, not telling me.” Francis’ smile doesn’t drop and his tone is as if nothing had happened. 

“I got a note. It was my second or so day in my new room and I came back to a note on my floor.” You start, wasting no time in explaining, figuring there’s time better than the present to make things right again. 

“It was… much softer than the rest. My admirer was apologizing for scaring me away. Like they were scared of me leaving them.” You continue softly, finally pulling yourself to look away from his gaze. 

“They ended the note by telling me that… someone gave them my new dorm room number. A friend, they had said. That I should be careful who I trust.” You explain weakly, shrugging, “It sort of made me… doubt everything. I can only trust Tanvi now. Or well, I could only trust her at that time.”

Francis doesn’t speak or interrupt. He lets you finish and once you’re done explaining yourself to him, he nods slowly, a look of understanding in his eyes.

“No, I understand. I guess I just wanted to hear it from you personally. You’ve known Tanvi the longest. It only makes sense that you would trust her more.” Francis finally says, his smile somehow softening even more. 

You’re glad he understands, even if what you did was shitty, it’s nice to know he won’t hold it completely against you. Even if you knew everyone else rightfully did.

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I just didn’t know what else to do. If I couldn’t rule you out… then I assumed there was a chance. It was stupid. I didn’t mean to hurt you guys and lose you.” You say, apologizing because what else is there for you to do?

“Naw. It’s fine. I’m not mad at you. I can’t speak for the others but I totally get it. I like hanging out with you. You don’t have to tell me where your new dorm is but I don’t want to lose contact with you.” The way he said it made you believe him, made you want to keep him close. Are you gullible for feeling this way? Maybe. 

“Oh.” Is all you could say. There were hundreds of other ways to respond to such an affectionate statement but you chose ‘oh’ like an idiot. Perhaps the way your eyes flickered to meet his and the shy smile on your lips spoke enough because he laughed once more.

“I want to be friends too. I feel guilty for accusing you of something I have no proof of. I missed you.” The two of you are being weirdly sentimental for a random Friday afternoon but neither of you seems to mind, if anything, you two are basking in it.

“Cool. Well, you have my number, don’t you? Don’t be afraid to reach out. And if I text you asking to hang out later tonight, maybe respond, okay? And hey, Monique will come around.”Francis says, getting up, his tone playful and eyes shining slightly.

“I gotta go. I saw you walk in here and had to say hi. But you’re right, I do have psych right now and I’m gonna get marked absent.” He explains, quickly, grabbing his bag off the ground. He leans over the table, as if he was going to hug you but instead picking up your apple juice, “You owe me.” He says, grinning. 

You wave as he rushes out of the dining hall. He turns and waves goodbye before leaving the hall. You’re in disbelief as you see him take a sip of your juice. 

What a strange… strange man. Strange even feels like it isn’t a strong enough word to describe him. 

Even though you should feel better after the conversation you just had with Francis, you didn’t. You felt worse. 

You looked back down at your food, your hunger having suddenly vanished, and the tray looked unappetizing with the disappearance of your apple juice. 

You felt like shit. Why were you letting the people you dropped come to you and seek your apology or explanation rather than going to them yourself? Were you that pathetic? 

Francis had mentioned Monique, someone who had been your first college friend. He had said that she would come around. Did that mean she was mad at you? You wouldn’t hold it against her. If anyone had practically accused you of helping their admirer find their location with no proof, you’d be mad too.

You felt stupid for feeling like this. You felt as if you were victimizing yourself. You had no right to.

And was it stupid to miss them even though you’re the reason you aren’t on good speaking terms with your four other friends? Had you acted rashly? It felt like you had. 

You had always felt safe with Francis, why did you doubt him? Monique made you feel comfortable and confident, and Claire was practically your partner in crime, so why did you get rid of them so quickly?

Your mind was running at speeds uncontrollably, and it was overwhelming. Not even closing your eyes could rid you of the thoughts. 

With a sigh, you stood up, shoving your laptop in your backpack. No use trying to eat or work when you felt like this. You felt horrible, even though you felt you didn’t have the right to.

You grabbed your tray and emptied it in the trash before putting it away where it belonged. You were acting based on automation, like you weren’t really there. You really needed to get out of there before you crashed out. 

Thankfully, someone had opened the door for you to leave; otherwise, you most likely would’ve crashed into the door. Looking up to thank the person, your eyes met with a familiar grey. 

“Theodore. Thank you. Haha, I almost face-planted into the door; you saved my nose.” You laughed softly, slightly coming out of your stupor.

“Yeah… Uh. No problem. Really. I uh… I like your nose. I wouldn’t want it to bleed.” Theodore threw out, almost like he wasn’t in control of his mouth. His eyes were wide, he was out of breath, and his cheeks flushed, like he had just run.

“You… like my nose? Haha, thank you? That’s sweet.” You murmured, nose crinkling slightly at the compliment. His gaze was fixated on your nose, that much you could tell with the way his eyes widened. 

“I should go. I have to finish a paper I haven’t even started. But thank you so much for looking out for me, Theodore. Even if you weren’t doing it like that.” You thanked one last time. You sort of felt like throwing up for some reason. 

“Oh. Yeah… no… no uh problem. Really. Haha. Um. You… look… really happy today; it’s nice to see you… see you give a real smile for once.” Theodore mumbled out before making another one of his sudden and unexpected leaves, leaving you staring at the spot he just stood at. 

If Francis was strange, then Theodore was abnormal. You could never really tell what his intentions were. 

But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find it sort of endearing. Even if he had some sort of beef with Tanvi you didn’t know about. You shook your head at the thought; somehow, your interaction with Theodore made you feel better. 

You reflected on that feeling the entire walk back to your dorm. You didn’t know why; you just couldn’t get your mind off of it; it was a good distraction.

You made it to your dorm at record time, your feet carrying you when your mind was somewhere else. You were so distracted that you missed the thick wad of paper that crumbled under your feet the moment you stepped in. 

You closed the door behind you and practically collapsed onto your bed. You had finally finished unpacking all your clothes and putting up your decorations.

You looked around at your work. It wasn’t much, but you enjoyed the cozy feeling the room gave you. 

That’s when your eyes landed on a folded piece of paper. Curious, you sat up on your bed. Did you drop a piece of paper? It couldn’t be a note; your admirer left notes on sticky notes or index cards, not sheets of paper.

You eyed it for another second before shrugging; it probably fell out of your backpack when you were leaving in a rush for class earlier. You decided you’d pick it up later; you wanted to take a quick nap. 

You laid back down onto your back, closing your eyes and taking deep breaths. 

You lay in silence for a few minutes, but the chance that the piece of paper wasn’t just yours and was another note didn’t leave your mind. The overwhelming feeling made you jump out of bed and towards the note, grabbing it and taking it back to bed. 

You sat crisscross in the middle of your bed, folded paper in your hand. If it turned out to just be your own piece of paper, then good. If it was a note, then… you didn’t know how you’d feel.

You unfolded the paper, heart racing and eyes wide. On the sheet was handwriting you’ve come to know and… fear. This note was written in glitter pen in your favorite color. The note was littered with cute cat stickers and hearts. It was obvious your admirer had taken their time with this one. 

The note read: ‘Dear Sweetheart. 

I’m sorry I’ve taken so long to find you. Trust me, if it were up to me, you would never go a day without a note. You looked amazing today, red really suits you. Your outfit almost reminds me of a certain cat. Anyways, I saw that you’re letting people back in. That’s so cute. You’re so sweet, even to those who don’t deserve it. You looked happy, disgustingly so. I almost didn’t want to interrupt you guys. But I missed you. I wonder if you’ll let me in too. Remember, you can’t trust anyone. I mean, how else would I have gotten your location last time? You don’t need him. You only need me. I love you. 

Love, P.’

Your heart beat increased as you read on. How the hell had they found you this time? Last time they found you, they had explicitly said a friend of yours had given them your dorm number, this time, however, there was no indication of that. They found you themselves. 

You should be terrified about the fact. You should be mad you have to move dorms once again and report this to your RA. You should be scared this person apparently saw your conversation with Francis. 

You aren’t feeling any of those things. 

You shouldn’t feel happy you finally got a note again. You shouldn’t be blushing at the contents. And you most definitely should not be waiting for the next note. 

“What the hell is wrong with me?” You voiced out loud in a whisper. You didn’t want to report the note. Did you have to? You were coming to realize… you don’t mind the notes. They’re sweet. Not only that, it’s been over a month since the first one, if your admirer wanted to do something to you, they would’ve. There’s no harm in… indulging in it, was there?

You folded the note carefully, placing it on your bed before searching for your phone. You needed advice; Tanvi would do it; she had never failed you. 

Before you could even grab your phone, the signature notification sound played. When you unlocked your phone, you saw Tanvi beat you to it; it was like the two of you were connected.

You clicked on her contact and read the message she had sent: ‘LMAO Francis found you, huh? Awkward… I saw him leaving the dining hall 💀’ Weird. Normally, this type of message was normal between the two of you. So why did this message feel so weird?

How did she even know you went to the dining hall? Had you mentioned it during Art? Maybe, today’s been a hectic day for you. 

No. You didn’t like talking enough to forget the things you said. Your anxiety barely let you forget the conversations you had; you spent nights staring at the ceiling, going over them and what other things you could’ve said. You don’t remember saying anything. You hadn’t even really been hungry in class. 

You scrolled up to read your past messages, not seeing any mention of the dining hall. You felt your heart race and your chest hurt as you attempted to recall this conversation, which most definitely did not exist. 

Tanvi probably just saw you enter the dining hall. That’s what happened. 

Except it didn’t. Tanvi was still cleaning up when you left and made your way to get your food. 

She had just seen you leaving, duh. Which would make sense if she wasn’t meeting her girlfriend in the science hall right after Art. 

You chewed on your lip, lost in thought. Was Tanvi… the one who had been writing those notes? No… she loved her girlfriend too much to do that. Was she helping your admirer? 

You felt your heart drop at the thought. Why would she do that? Why would she betray you like that? Is this a joke?

No… Why were you accusing your closest and longest friend of doing something so horrible? Why would you do that to her? 

The thoughts swirled in your mind, and your eyes landed on the note you got today. You opened it again and re read it. No… Your admirer had to find your dorm room themselves… they said last time they had a friend help them. 

Only Tanvi knew your location, so… if she was helping them, then… they would’ve sent a note earlier. 

Yeah, it all made sense. Tanvi wasn’t betraying you. Really, you were betraying her by even thinking of accusing her of such atrocities. She probably just saw you at some point. 

You stared at the note, rereading it. You let out a soft sigh as your fingers played with one of the stickers on the paper.  You felt… calm reading it. Is that weird? Maybe. But you didn’t care. 

You didn’t even finish reading it when another text message awoke your phone.

This time, it wasn’t Tanvi. It was Francis. 

He had said he wanted to reach out. And you promised to respond. 

“Hey. U wanna hang out tonight at like 7 at my place? I got Super Smash Bros and alcohol. It’ll be just us.” The message was so simple… so familiar. He texted like you guys had never spent weeks apart.

Cute. He was… cute. It seems your crush on him never really left, huh? But he texted like this with everyone; it’s not like you were special.

You could see he began typing again before deleting everything. He was waiting for you to reply first. Which you did immediately, “Heyyy. omg of course! I’ll see u there :]” 

There. You were calm and simple. There was no way he would see how fat of a crush you had on him. Then, you waited for his response. You saw him type and delete for four minutes before he ended up just liking the message. Ouch. 

I mean, yeah, what else would he do? Continue the conversation? You’d talk when you went to his place. You’re just his friend; if you were even that right now, you shouldn’t expect more. He wouldn’t like you like that anyways; he had two other girls actively involved with him. 

Still, it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt a little. As silly as you felt for feeling like that. You sighed and threw your phone at the other end of your bed.

Your eyes landed on the paper still on your lap. You read it again. And again. And again. 

Eventually, you pulled yourself away from the note.  A big smile had made itself on your flushed face as you resold the note. 

You stood up from your spot on the bed and took a seat in the ground. You pulled out a small box hidden under your bed. It wouldn’t hurt to not tell your RA about this. Your admirer hadn’t done anything or threatened you yet. So what was the harm?

You opened the box full of old notes. You looked down at the note in your hand, squeezing it softly before placing it in the box, shutting it and pushing it back under your bed.  “Just one more note. Just one more note, then I’ll report it.” You muttered to yourself, staring at the box.

The room had never been so quiet; you could only hear your increasing heartbeat. Was it fear? Something you couldn’t name?

You stood up, shaking your head as you got back on your bed. You laid back down, the silence pressing you against it.

You shouldn’t feel comforted.

But you did.

sooo chapter 2... idk how to feel with it.. please help me by criticizing me :3

[cherrysup]

Dear Sweetheart (i) - yandere male oc x reader

𖡼 summary. he sits behind you in art class and never says a word. but somehow, he knows everything about you- your favorite color, your class schedule, and even who you spoke to last night. is he someone connected to the mysterious love notes you've been receiving?

𖡼 tw. fem! reader, stalking/obsessive behavior, yandere themes, gaslighting, emotional manipulation, mild psychological horror, unreliable narrator, isolation, paranoia, boundary crossing, art as an obsession, and potential implied violence in later chapters. read responsibly!

𖡼 w/c. 2.3k+ (will increase as the chapters continue)

𖡼 authors note. this is my first fanfic in like seven years... so if anyone sees this... please provide feedback!

𖡼 chapters. one. two.

You smiled at me first.

This was the second time you had to change dorm rooms because of the mysterious and strange notes that randomly appeared taped on the inside of your door.

At first, they were sweet, talking about how nice you smelled or how pretty you looked with the new shirt you had just bought. You thought nothing of it; why would you? Some poor boy or girl was too shy to come up to you and say those things in person, so they slipped little notes under your door. You actually started to look forward to the daily notes; they made your day, and being complimented so much was nice for your ego. They were always deposited under your dorm room door daily while you were away at class, so it was practically impossible to find the person responsible for them, but you yearned to meet them. The ends of the sticky notes ended with “To my sweetheart” or any other cheesy nickname, but without fail, each was signed off with “Love, P.”

Although you didn’t personally know any “P”s, that didn’t stop you from trying to find them. You had forced your friends to accompany you while you walked up to every person whose name started with a P just to see how they would react to you saying hello. Your admirer would undoubtedly react by fumbling over their words or blushing, which you could piece together from their notes explaining how shy they are in front of you. Still, in the end, you had no luck; not a single person reacted the way you needed them to, causing you to lose slight hope in finding this person; perhaps they didn’t even exist.

After three weeks of frequent notes, they became much more obsessive, disproving your theory that the notes were somehow a joke. Coincidentally, this happened at the same time you started talking to the cute guy who sat next to you in your elective art class. Initially, the notes were slid under your dorm door, but then they started being taped on the inside of the door. You had laughed off the first three notes, thinking your roommate had put them there and played a joke on you.

The notes had changed from sweet poems of adoration like “You’re so beautiful. I feel so fortunate to be able to glance at you, if only I had the courage to approach you” to meaner and slightly unhinged ones like “I don’t understand why you hang around him. We both know you’re above his league. Are you doing this because you’re lonely? Don’t be pathetic.” There was such a drastic change in tone that you almost refused to believe it was the same person who had written such sweet things about you. However, after confirming four times with your dormmate that she wasn’t forging the notes and playing a prank on you, you knew it was the same writer from before.

It’s still unknown to you how they managed to get a copy of your dorm room key, but you weren’t keen on sticking around long enough to find out. On the day you found the seventh note taped on the inside of your door, you decided you weren’t going to be borderline harassed anymore. You took all twenty-one previous notes you had saved and the latest seven to your RA, requesting not only a lock change but also to be moved to a different dorm. Your request was processed fairly quickly; anyone who looked at the notes could see how necessary the move would be for not only your safety but also that of your roommate. 

To keep your new dorm room a secret, you were assigned a roommate and quickly moved into the first available room. You decided to keep your whereabouts a secret, only telling your closest friends. While you weren’t exactly a loner, you weren’t a social butterfly either, and you only had a small group of close friends. So, you were surprised to find another note on the floor of your new dorm room. This note was clearly slid under and not taped, indicating that your admirer didn’t have the key yet.

The note read, “My dearest, I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I didn’t mean to get mad at you. He just made me so angry. He was using you, and I’m so happy you’re ignoring him now. I love you. I won’t scare you anymore. Please don’t leave me again. P.S.: One of your friends let it slip where you live, haha, made my job easier. Watch out for them. Love, P.” This note was written in your favorite colored ink and had a small sticker of your favorite Sanrio character attached at the bottom. However, none of those details registered in your mind as you stared at the note in mild horror. How had they found your address again?

You hadn’t even finished unpacking yet, and they had already started sending notes again? You immediately left the room, note crumbling slightly under your grasp, and headed to your RA’s room for the second time in two weeks. The moment she opened the door and saw your expression, she let out a sigh and let you in. Next thing you knew, you were being moved yet again. This time, you wouldn’t make the mistake of telling all your friends. Only your closest and oldest friend, Tanvi, who had traveled with you to New York just to attend school together.

The two of you sat at the back of your art class, the professor nowhere to be seen and half the class still missing. Usually, your professor assigned seats to get the creative juices flowing, but due to your situation, he allowed you to choose seats. The only seats filled were yours and Tanvi’s, and the boy who sat by himself behind you. You didn’t have to worry about him much though; he spoke to no one and almost always had his headphones in, a blessing for you and Tanvi, allowing you to whisper as much as you pleased. As you turned around to gauge the area and make sure no one else was within earshot, you made eye contact with the boy who immediately began blushing when you flashed him a polite smile and turned back down to look at his sketchpad.

The boy was named Theodore, and he never spoke unless spoken to. He wore the same oversized black and white hoodie every day, sleeves tugged past his wrists, and strings chewed at the ends. You figured he just liked being cozy. But it was the way he held his pencil, tight like it could snap, and the fact that he was always sketching something that interested you. Tanvi had once dared to ask him what he was drawing. He blinked at her like he wasn’t sure she was real, then muttered something about “architecture” before flipping the page so fast you swore you saw something that looked like a face.

“I think he’s just shy,” Tanvi whispered now, nudging your elbow. “Or a vampire. You’ve seen his skin. Or both.” You chuckled softly, glancing over your shoulder again. This time, Theodore wasn’t looking away. He met your gaze and didn’t flinch. Just blinked once, twice, then smiled. It wasn’t a creepy smile. Not exactly. But it was a little too happy for someone who had never said more than five words to you. He turned back to his sketchpad. Your stomach churned, and you looked away just as quickly. 

Even though he had his headphones in, you lowered your voice anyway, just in case, before telling Tanvi anything she needed to know about the details of your move and the new note that had appeared the night before. You explained as much as you could with the limited time you had before your professor would unfortunately walk in to begin class.

An hour later, and little to no progress had been made on the project you had had a week to complete, you stood up, ready to put away all your untouched painting supplies. Tanvi, having already rushed out of class, claimed she needed to meet her girlfriend for lunch. Not that you had a problem cleaning up after the two of you; it gave you time to think before needing to go work on other classwork.

You cleaned in silence, the only other noise being the chatter of the other students as they did the same. Eventually, the only two people left in the classroom were you and Theodore, both without partners cleaning up after themselves, no doubt you’d take longer than any other pair. You found the silence pleasant; there was no need for either of you to speak, and even though you didn’t know him well, he had this sort of anxious energy that you felt comfortable in.

That was until a voice broke the silence. Normally, that would have been completely normal, except the voice came from someone you were pretty sure only spoke when necessary.

Theodore had said your name, standing right behind you, his bag on his shoulder, and one earphone out of his ear. He waited until you turned around to give you possibly the shiest smile you had ever seen. The tips of his ears were burning as he waved goodbye and practically ran out of the art room.

You just stood there in complete silence, taken aback by the way he said your name. You let out a small “oh,” realizing you didn’t even get to wave back by how caught off guard you were. Shrugging, you moved to finish picking up. You’d just have to say hello next time your class met. 

You turned around to grab your bag from the ground when your eyes landed on Theodore’s sketchbook left on the table behind you. You couldn’t believe he had forgotten it; you’ve never seen him without it. With little thought, you grabbed it, knowing that another class would be coming in less than an hour. You might as well find him before someone else did.

After searching the school for about ten minutes, you rightfully gave up due to the tiredness from a morning class. You decided to head back to your new dorm and search for him again before your next class. You’d return his prized sketchbook to him then.

On the walk back to your dorm, you couldn’t help but feel curious about what might be hidden on the pages of the book. Theodore was always so cautious about who he was sketching, so it couldn’t possibly be all architecture, could it? Would it really hurt to take a small peek? On one hand, it was disrespectful, but… No one would know, and you could finally prove to Tanvi that he wasn’t a vampire.

Before you could even weigh the pros and cons, you bumped into the back of a man as you turned to the hallway leading to your new dorm. You dropped your phone and the sketchbook you were holding.

You immediately started apologizing and bent down to pick both objects up, only to be beat by whoever you had just bumped into. They grabbed the sketchbook before you could with such speed that you thought it was his.

Which… it was. When you looked up, the last person you would’ve expected to see was the owner of the sketchbook himself, Theodore, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. “Oh my god,” he says as he practically whispers your name, holding the sketchbook tightly in his hand. “You… You found it. I… Thank you so much. I didn’t… even realize I forgot it.” The statement was strange; how could he forget something he never let go of?

“Yeah, no problem, Theodore. I noticed you left it behind and wanted to return it. I didn’t expect to see you here.” After the surprise wears off, a small laugh escapes you, “I couldn’t find you. Do you… live around here? Or?” There was no reason to suspect him, but your gut instinct made you ask for more information.

“Um… I… N..No. No.. I don’t. I just was visiting my friend. He lives down this hallway.” Theodore explains, fumbling over his words. “Thank you. You’re so… so sweet. I don’t… know what I would have done if I had lost this. You didn’t… you didn’t look… did you?”

This is the second time he’s caught you off guard in the last few seconds. You should have expected the question, “Um. No. I didn’t want to… invade your privacy. I was just holding on to it for you.” You correct, trying to ease his nerves. His audible sigh confirms that it works. “Good. Well. Goodbye. Thank you. I really should get going. I have… class. Have a nice day. I… I… Bye.” Theodore scurries away once more, and you can only wave.

He’s a strange boy. Perhaps Tanvi is right. He might be a vampire. You’ve never seen someone so pale and act so skittish around everyone. You hope she’s wrong. You don’t want to lose the five dollars you bet against it.

Shrugging, you decide you’ve spent too much time standing by yourself in the middle of the hallway and make your way to your dorm. You need to start unpacking anyway. With one last look at the direction Theodore disappeared down, you walk towards your room, ignoring what might have been a tuft of black hair hiding behind a corner wall.

Finally, you returned to your freshly reassigned dorm room, number 3F in the far corner of a hallway, hidden and secure. You hesitated before inserting the key, half-expecting to find another cute sticky note waiting for you. Luckily, there wasn’t one. Was it weird you felt a slight tug of disappointment at the fact? 

But your desk lamp was on. It was one of the few things you had unpacked. You didn’t remember plugging it in, but who else would turn it on if not you? 

Staring at it wouldn’t solve anything, there was only one person who could’ve done it so there was no real use dwelling on the ‘what ifs’. Moving the lamp to the back of your mind, you continued to unpack unbeknownst to the truth. 

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