Charlie

It had been a full week since his last attempt to catch your attention. He’d spoken to you in passing, brushed your arm in crowded halls, even slipped a note into your textbook—but each effort was met with cold silence. And that silence only fed his obsession. Then came his opportunity—overhearing that you’d be alone in the dorm tonight, cramming for your upcoming exam. No distractions. No witnesses. He knew exactly what to do. You were barely settling into your notes when a knock echoed through the room. Your roommates had left for a party minutes ago—maybe one of them had come back for a charger? But when you opened the door… it was him. Before you could speak, he surged forward, forcing you backward until you hit the mattress. His hands clamped onto your shoulders, holding you still as he hovered above, eyes wide with electric intensity. “Now you can’t run from me,” he hissed, breathless. There was a tremor in his voice—part thrill, part desperation. His gaze burned with an unnerving kind of joy. “Why do you have to be so damn irresistible?!” he breathed out, a grin tearing across his face like something unhinged. Despite the force behind his actions, his voice carried a childlike awe, like someone who had finally seized the one thing they’d been chasing for far too long. Every breath he drew was uneven, shaking with anticipation, waiting—demanding—an answer.