anonymous love letters

Poppy · Sep 23, 2015

Astor Hollis Grimm

Astor told himself he was going to stop this.

Anonymous love letters were pretty creepy, as a general concept. He knew that. He felt like a stalker, only that... he wasn't a stalker. It was an innocent crush. He couldn't help it if Jericho's existence filled him with glee, like a little ball of light in his otherwise dark and morbid life. The letters were his way of saying thank you for being that light for me. It was never about getting Jericho to notice him. After all, who could hope to date the sun?

He stood in front of the locker, feet pressed together, letter in his hand. It was in the same stationary he used previously: dark blue envelope, light grey paper, silver etchings of roses. This one was about how he enjoyed the Host Club presentation in the Club Festival. He didn't really come in. It was more like — he watched from the shadows, and with the energy going on in the place, it was like he was part of everything as well. That made him happy. He hesitated for a few moments before slipping another letter inside.

With that done, Astor pulled his hoodie up and began to casually walk down the Hallway, hoping nobody noticed him.

@"Porky"

Batty · Sep 23, 2015

Jericho couldn't quote remember when exactly the letters began to roll in. The memory was vague at this point, for the whole incident felt like ages ago. All he remembered was that he went to his locker one day to get his blazer for the host club meeting that we was about to attend. Only for something else that he hadn't remembered he placed in to drift out to the floor. Now, opening his locker to find surprises wasn't a foreign occurrence to him. After all, he remembered that April Fool's day where he opened his locker only to be greeted with a barrage of glitter that he couldn't get out of his feathers for weeks. But it was all in good fun though, not to mention that he thought he totally rocked the look. This scenario was different, however. This letter wasn't apart of some gag, or was from anyone he knew.

It was a love letter. A very sweet, carefully worded love letter.

That first time, Jericho had tried to brush it off. Still believing it was a joke, because even his most loyal customers at his club never so developed an attachment like this one. By the time the third one rolled in... Well, it was clear that this was serious. After rushing to the nearest men's room to seal himself in a stall to gather his flustered mind, Jericho found himself dedicated to a mission. He needed to find this stranger. Even better, he needed to catch them in the act. Whoever it was, they were elusive. But Jericho was a man of persistence. He wasn't going to sleep right until he found out this secret admirer was. No matter what it would take.

So that was why Jericho found himself in the rafters of the hallway like some sort of vulture waiting for its meal. At least, that's the way it seemed. But he wasn't being creepy, right? He was perched in a crouching position with his wings encasing his body while he watched his locker like his life depended on it. Trying his damnedest to keep himself from both falling and being caught. How long had he been here? An hour? Maybe he should just call it quits for the day. Before someone pressed charges or whatever. The hallways were empty now anyway, so if he jumped-

Wait a minute. Someone was approaching his locker.

He was looking at his phone for a brief moment, which is why he was more shocked when they finally showed up. Jericho leaned in. Ever so carefully. His eyes narrowed as he tried to decipher the figure, and what they were holding in their hand. A familiar sheet of paper... The letter. This was it. He waited for the figure to walk off. All the while, he tried to formulate how to approach them without being a total creep. He just... Wanted answers. And to hopefully get to know the writer, to tell them it was okay to be abrupt with his feelings instead of hiding them.

But first, he had to play it cool. He carefully hopped down from the rafters, trying to be light so that the admirer wouldn't turn around. Of course, he stumbled, uttering a disgruntled "shit" before attempting to regain himself. He cleared his throat and straightened himself up. Looking down to see that the figure was almost gone at the the of the hallway.

Wow, he really didn't think this through.

Jericho's mind races for ideas, until he saw something fall from the other's backpack. He squinted again. A pen, it looked like. Perfect. The nephilim took off after him in a fast walk while still attempting to be casual. The path wasn't long until he met the pen, bending down to pick it up. His hand almost nervously clenched it as he tried to gain a composure. He could do this.
"Hey! You!" He called out, holding up the pen. A crooked yet easygoing smile appeared on his face. "You dropped this!"

Mission complete.

Poppy · Sep 23, 2015

Astor felt pretty good about this, all things considered. He didn't know how Jericho reacted to the letters personally but the fact that they were never turned into a meme or posted in bulletin boards made him feel like he... maybe... liked them? The possibility that Jericho liked something he did made him feel all fuzzy inside —

"Hey! You!"

Astor froze.

He could recognize that voice in his wildest dreams. He turned around tentatively, feeling his knees trembling. There he was, all tall and radiant and, as of right now, looking right at him. Astor took a quick look behind him to check if Jericho was talking to somebody else.

Him? He was talking to him?

There really was no other way to describe Astor at that moment. Everything felt like too much at once. They were talking about a pen, but with the pen came the possibility of closer proximity — in an empty Hallway — with the man that he —

Astor pulled his hoodie downward hoping to obscure his face. It wasn't really the prettiest face out there. When Astor looked at himself in the mirror, he saw terrifying, sunken eyes and way too pasty skin in a frame way too small and thin and he — Who was he kidding, really. He wanted to run but that really was his pen. He needed that.

He approached him slowly but deliberately, trying to keep his focus on almost everything but Jericho, afraid that if their eyes met somehow they'd betray everything, and this — this safe distance between admirer and admired would shatter. He anticipated nothing less than rejection, and the sad part was that he was afraid he wouldn't be able to give him letters anymore.

When he got close enough, he held out his hand. He tried to act as neutral as he could possibly be, but his normally pale face was nothing less than bright red. "Thank you for picking it up... Jericho."

Batty · Sep 24, 2015

As soon as the figure stopped, Jericho was relieved he finally got their full attention. He stood a good few feet away, but even in this distance the nephilim could piece a bit of their persona together. They were... A lot smaller than him. Their black baggy clothes contradicted Jericho's form-fitting varsity jacket and jeans. It made him wonder what they had to hide...

For now though, he didn't want to stare at them. Already they looked withdrawn, hesitant, and probably worried that they got caught. But it wasn't like their pursuer was upset. No, quite the opposite. He was flattered. Naturally then, he wanted to meet

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anonymous love letters

Poppy

Well-Known Member

Batty

The artist formerly known as porky

Poppy

Well-Known Member

Batty

The artist formerly known as porky