In a dimly lit, cramped room, the quiet was broken only by the steady sound of breathing.
Snore
A young man lay sprawled on a modest bed, his face calm and serene, lost in the world of dreams, when suddenly—
Beep Beep Beep
The alarm clock next to him blared, its sharp tone slicing through the tranquility.
"Ughh..."
The young man groaned in irritation, fumbling to silence the device. His blurry eyes squinted at the time—it was 6 a.m. already.
"Time to get up," he muttered groggily, rubbing his eyes as he swung his legs off the bed. His feet hit the cool wooden floor, sending a shiver up his spine. Reluctantly, he stumbled to the bathroom.
Five minutes later, he emerged, droplets of water clinging to his half-naked body. A simple white towel hung loosely around his waist, his skin still damp from the refreshing shower. He stretched lazily, his muscles protesting the early morning wake-up call.
"Haah... that felt nice."
He wandered over to his wardrobe, the doors creaking as he opened them. Inside, rows of neatly folded clothes greeted him—every piece either black or white, devoid of variety. He ran a hand through his still-wet hair.
"Hmm... what to wear?" His fingers paused on a white t-shirt, then a pair of black pants. "Yeah, that'll do."
In the bathroom again, he dressed quickly before stepping in front of the mirror. With a focused expression, he rummaged through the cluttered drawers, searching for something specific.
"Huh... where did I... Ah! There you are."
He pulled out a pair of thin-rimmed glasses, slipping them on before adjusting his hair. He combed it neatly, parting it down the middle.
Staring at his reflection, he sighed. "Why do I look so plain?"
Black hair, blue eyes, sharp eyebrows—a blend of features that could have been striking but, when put together, felt unremarkable. Still, he shrugged it off.
"Well, can't complain. It could be worse."
With that, he plopped down at his desk, flipping open his laptop. The soft glow of the screen illuminated his face as he stared at the blank page before him.
"Alright... two chapters today, 2000 words minimum. No classes, no shift at the restaurant. Maybe I can even squeeze in three."
He cracked his knuckles, a smirk forming on his face as his fingers flew across the keyboard. The rhythmic clacking of keys echoed in the small room, his focus unbroken.
Seventy-five minutes later—
"Done."
He leaned back, stretching his arms over his head, satisfied with the first chapter of the day.
"Time to proofread," he muttered, skimming through his work. His novel, was slowly gaining traction. He was proud of how far he'd come, despite his modest beginnings.
Ding
A notification popped up on the screen, drawing his attention.
"Huh? A message?"
He clicked on it, his eyes widening as he read.
"A donation? Wait, what?"
His jaw dropped. "1000 credits?! That's enough to last me for three months!"
He leaned closer, scanning the name of the donor.
"Yandere_King... again?" He groaned in frustration, resting his forehead on the edge of the desk. This was not the first time the mysterious fan had dropped a large donation. But the messages were getting... unsettling.
"This guy's so weird. Always asking for my address, like... seriously? Does he think Xavier Cromwell sounds like a girl's name or something?"
Shaking his head, he clicked on the message icon, bracing himself for more strange behavior.
The text appeared, and as he read it, his blood ran cold.
[Dear Xavier Cromwell, I hope you're doing well. I'm pleased to share some good news: I've finally found you. Yes, I know where you live. Don't worry—I won't tell anyone. But I'll drop by later today for a chat, so be prepared.
With love,
Yandere_King.]
"..."
Xavier sat in stunned silence, his heart hammering in his chest. His palms grew clammy as the weight of the message settled in.
This has to be a joke, right?
"What the heck?!"
He shot out of his chair, pacing the small room as panic overtook him. "No way this guy knows where I live. He's just messing with me... right?"
Suddenly—
"Meow~"
A soft purring caught his attention. He looked down to see his cat, Jaffar, rubbing against his leg.
"Ahh, it's just you, Jaffar," he sighed, his panic momentarily subsiding as he bent down to pet the feline. "You're always so calm, aren't you? Wish I could be like that."
Jaffar purred louder, prompting Xavier to fetch his breakfast. As he prepared the cat's food, he tried to convince himself again.
"This is ridiculous. There's no way that weirdo knows where I live... I've never told any outsiders."
Jaffar meowed impatiently, and Xavier set the food down for him.
"Enjoy," he said, watching the cat eat with enviable ease. "Must be nice having no worries at all."
Just as he started to relax—
DING
The doorbell rang.
"...!"
Xavier froze, his stomach twisting into knots. The timing couldn't have been worse. He swallowed, taking a deep breath.
"There's no way, right?" he muttered, forcing his trembling legs to move. "Nothing to worry about..."
He crept to the door, his heart racing as he reached for the handle. Slowly, he opened it—
"Hello! Does Ms. Sarah Cromwell live here? There's a package for her."
Xavier blinked, his mind blank for a moment before he realized it was only a delivery man. Relief washed over him.
"Y-yeah, she's my sister. She's out right now, but I can take it."
After signing for the package, he closed the door and sighed.
"See? Nothing to worry about. I'm just being paranoid."
But then—
DING
The doorbell rang again, barely giving him time to breathe. His stomach dropped.
"Huh? What now...?"
He approached the door more cautiously this time. Opening it, he had no time to react before—
*BOOM!!*
Something, or someone, collided into him with the force of a freight train. Xavier hit the floor, dazed and confused, only to find a pair of slender arms wrapped tightly around him.
Gazing up at him with wide, adoring eyes, a girl in a pink dress whispered in the most endearing voice:
"I've finally found you, my husband~"