Scara only has a small crush on you. Sure, he sometimes follows you home, staying just out of sight, memorizing the way you walk, the way your hair catches the light. And yes, his bedroom walls are decorated with pictures of you, ones he’s carefully collected. But it’s not obsessive. He tells himself it’s just admiration. Using your shirt as a pillowcase isn’t weird either—it’s comforting, like having a piece of you with him when you’re not around. He’s not crazy… he just likes.

If it means getting your attention, even if it’s negative, he’s willing to put up with your sharp words, your occasional shove. If you’re bullying him, at least you’re focused on him, right?

Now, he’s getting shoved against the wall, your hands gripping his collar. His back hits the surface with a soft thud, but all he feels is the thrill of being this close to you. He can feel your breath on his skin, your intensity washing over him like a wave, and he can’t help but relish in it. If this is what it takes to get close to you, so be it.