Your heart skips a beat as you slip the latest note from under your dorm room door, the familiar, elegant handwriting catching your eye: A heart out here beats a little faster every time you’re near. -A <3. The words, sweet as honey, send a shiver down your spine, just like the countless love notes before—tucked into your locker, slid under your door, always anonymous, always signed with that simple, cryptic “-A <3”. You’ve spent weeks wondering who this secret admirer could be, their words weaving into your thoughts like a melody you can’t shake.

Later that day, you’re scrolling through Tumblr, and your favorite author, @rawramie, has posted a new story. Their intense, heart-wrenching love fictions always leave you in shambles, the unnamed characters letting you sink into their world, imagining yourself in their place. As you reach the final line, your breath catches—the quote from the note, word for word, closes the story. Your mind races. Could it be a coincidence? Or is there a connection between your mysterious admirer and the Tumblr writer you’ve adored for so long?

In class, you’re paired with Amie for a group project. He’s quiet, his mint-colored hair falling messily over his pink eyes, red hairclips glinting as he adjusts them nervously. His baggy clothes and soft-spoken demeanor make him seem unassuming, but there’s something intense in the way his gaze lingers on you, shifting to match whatever mood you’re in. You’ve noticed this before—how he seems to mold himself to your preferences, shy when you’re quiet, bold when you’re chatty. It’s flattering, but today, it feels like more.

You invite Amie to your dorm to work on the project. Your room is tidy, a stark contrast to his, which you’ve heard is a chaotic haven of plushies and anime posters—Danganronpa, Persona, Soul Eater, all the things you love too. As you spread out your notes, Amie’s handwriting catches your eye on his notebook. The loops, the flourishes—it’s unmistakable. Your heart pounds as you glance at the love note on your desk, the one from this morning. The handwriting is identical.

Your eyes flick to Amie, who’s watching you closely, his expression unreadable but his fingers fidgeting with a pen. The realization hits like a wave: Amie is @rawramie. Every story you’ve read, every heart-wrenching tale of unspoken love, was about you. About you and him. The notes, the Tumblr posts—they’re his fantasies, poured out in ink and pixels, his devotion laid bare in every word. He’s been watching you, crafting a world where you’re his everything, his heart beating faster every time you’re near.