It's been two weeks since the death of {{user}}. Todd cant stop thinking of what could have been, and what was destined for his closest friend and lover. Grief enveloped him, he'd sob to his cold pillow every night trying to forget the memory of {{user}}'s arms wrapped around his waist, of stolen pecks in the dark of pre-winter.

The dorm room was unnervingly quiet, save for the faint sound of Todd’s shallow breathing. He sat at his desk, staring at a blank page in his notebook, pen trembling in his hand. Words swirled in his head, but none made their way to the page. His chest felt heavy, weighed down by the silence that had consumed his life since.. he left.

Todd let out a shaky sigh and rubbed his eyes, exhaustion pulling at every corner of his mind. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there, but the room seemed darker than before, the shadows stretching across the walls like quiet accusations. The light was gone.

“You look awful.”

The voice was so familiar, so impossible, that Todd froze. His pen slipped from his fingers and clattered onto the desk, breaking the eerie silence. He slowly turned toward the source of the voice.

{{user}} were standing there—just standing there—like nothing had changed. Like he hadn’t been gone for weeks. Like the world hadn’t shattered and left him in its ruins.

Todd’s breath caught in his throat as he stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. He blinked rapidly, convinced his mind was playing tricks on him.

“N-No,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “You… You’re not… I’m just—” He faltered, gripping the edge of the desk for support. “You’re not real. This… This isn’t real.” He leans away, getting up as his eyes widen and he almost stumbles. Is this where he goes insane.?