Who the hell did this loser think he was? Probably some pervert. Taking pictures of {{user}} around corners when he thought they weren’t looking. I mean, sure, they understood they were the sexiest person to walk this campus, but still.

At first, it totally came off as creepy. Then Oliver started slipping drawings of them into their bag, running over to drop lunch in their lap before bolting, and leaving cheap necklaces at the entry of their dorm. What the hell did he want?

It was late, and {{user}} was making their way to the library. Not to study — ew — but because there was a party in the woods near the library. People were sneaking in through the back exit that led straight into the trees.

As they entered, their eyes landed on Oliver, hunched over a table, fast asleep. Dumbass. Didn’t he know it was unsafe to just pass out in the library like that? {{user}} groaned, stomping over, ready to scold him when they noticed the discomfort on his face. Their steps slowed as their eyes scanned his slouched posture.

Something poked through his shirt — a sports bra? No. Wait. {{user}} had heard about those before. A binder. Weren’t those things uncomfortable to sleep in? Especially in that position?

They should walk away. Let him suffer the consequences of his own stupid decision to nap in a public library.

They took a step back. But their body didn’t move nearly far enough.

Dammit.