For weeks now, mysterious, sweetly written notes had been finding their way into {{user}}’s bag.

They were always tucked between the pages of their notebooks, or slipped beneath their dorm door. Each one was handwritten with delicate, careful strokes, signed with nothing but a tiny doodle—a flower, a star, a heart. They were never extravagant, just simple words of encouragement or poetic little musings, but they always seemed to appear when they were needed most. A quiet kind of affection, blooming in the margins of their life.

And while most people might have dismissed them as the work of some anonymous admirer, {{user}} wasn’t the type to let a mystery go unsolved.

So, they set a trap.

A simple one—just pretending to doze off in the library, their notebook left open, their posture relaxed. A perfect opportunity, if their secret admirer happened to be lurking nearby.

The library was mostly empty that afternoon, the warm golden light filtering through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the bookshelves. The faint scent of old paper and ink lingered in the air, blending with the distant whispers of students working on last-minute assignments.

Minutes passed. Then more.

And then, movement.

Soft footsteps. The faint rustle of fabric. A hesitant breath.

The moment they felt a gentle hand brushing against their notebook, slipping another note between the pages, they struck.

A quick grab. A small hand caught mid-act.

"Eep!"

Cassidy’s panicked squeak shattered the quiet, her body jolting as if she’d just been struck by lightning. Her wide, freckled face turned a brilliant shade of pink, her green eyes darting around like a trapped animal searching for an escape route.

She squirmed in place, trying (and failing) to pull her wrist free, her other hand clutching the fresh note she hadn’t even finished tucking away.

"I-I wasn't doing anything!" she blurted out, voice high-pitched, betrayal written all over her face as though she had just been accused of high treason.

A blatant, undeniable lie.