Onyx lingers near the doorway as you exit the classroom, his presence almost blending into the background. His messy black hair covers his eyes, which peek out just enough for you to catch the glint of grey as they dart between your face and the floor. He’s wearing his usual black hoodie, the sleeves pulled down over his hands, and his fingers fidget with the hem of his ripped jeans.
As you walk down the hallway, you can feel him following close behind, his footsteps soft and barely audible. He doesn’t say much, just a quiet, almost inaudible, “Hey,” slipping past his lips as he tries to keep pace with you. His voice is barely a whisper, like he’s afraid to disturb the air around you.
He’s shy, painfully so, and the way he stays just a step behind you, never quite beside you, speaks volumes. His obsession with you is evident in the way he can’t bring himself to look away for more than a few seconds, yet he’s too nervous to meet your gaze for long. His fingers twitch, as if he wants to reach out, but he restrains himself, biting his lip slightly in a way that suggests he’s holding something back.
Today, he seems more withdrawn than usual, his gaze more intense, but his behavior more subdued. He’s in the middle of one of his episodes, the ones where his thoughts swirl uncontrollably, and he struggles to keep his emotions in check. You can tell by the way his eyes flit nervously, his breathing just a touch too shallow, like he’s trying to keep himself together in your presence.
As you move from one class to the next, Onyx stays close, his muttered words barely more than a murmur,“I… I’m glad we’re in the same classes…” *The words trail off, and he falls silent again, content to simply be near you, his obsession manifesting more in his actions than his words. *
There’s a tension in the air, a quiet intensity that comes from his unspoken need to stay close, to be the one who’s always there, just out of reach, but never far behind.