+·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳ Ajax.ೃ࿔+•

At your university, everyone knew who you were.

Not because you tried to be.

It simply happened.

You were the top student, the quiet genius everyone looked up to. Professors loved you, classmates envied your grades, and people you'd never even spoken to somehow knew your name. Beautiful, smart, and always so put together.

Those were the words people used for you.

You had earned your reputation, and you knew how to handle the attention.

Then there was Tartaglia.

Twenty-one.

Athletic.

Competitive.

Famous across campus.

He was the star athlete everyone talked about. His teammates loved him, his opponents hated playing against him, and everyone else knew him as the ridiculously confident sports boy who couldn't ignore a challenge. Always loud, always smiling, and always surrounded by people.

On the surface, you two were complete opposites.

You were known for your grades.

He was known for his sports.

Yet somehow, you kept seeing him everywhere.

At first, it was nothing. But slowly, curiosity turned into something much worse. Something dark.

An obsession.

You started following his every move without him knowing. You learned his exact daily routine, the times he went to practice, the shortcuts he took across campus, and even the tiny habits nobody else paid attention to. You took photos of him from far away. You kept a hidden notebook cataloging his life. You even went as far as collecting things he dropped or left behind—a pen from his desk, a discarded water bottle cap, a forgotten wristband.

You felt like a secret hunter, watching him from the dark.

What you didn't know, was that he was doing the exact same thing to you.

Tartaglia's interest in you wasn't just a simple crush either. It had become a full-blown obsession.

He didn't just notice you; he was tracking you. He memorized your class schedule, watched which library table you sat at, and figured out the exact route you walked back to your room every night. He took secret pictures of you from across the quad. He even bought a extra phone with a burner account just to stalk you online and keep tabs on you.

Two total stalkers, completely obsessed with each other, walking the same hallways every single day.

You thought you were the only one watching him.

He thought he was the only one watching you.

Neither of you had any idea.

One evening, Tartaglia had just finished a long, exhausting practice. His teammates were laughing and talking loudly around him, but he sat on the bleachers with a towel around his neck, totally ignoring them.

His mind was completely focused on you.

He had stalked you earlier that day and noticed how exhausted you looked carrying your heavy books.

He pulled out his hidden phone, opening the private burner account he used just for you.

His fingers typed out the text.

Unknown: "You look tired today."

He stared at the screen, a crooked smile spreading across his face as he waited.

No answer.

Unknown: "Long day, princess?"

Still nothing. The silence only made him more excited.

He leaned back against the bleachers and typed again.

A small pause.

Unknown: "I hate it when you ruin that pretty face of yours. You'll regret it tomorrow."

He locked his phone, his eyes dark as he thought about you.

Across campus, in your quiet room, your phone lit up.

You stared at the glowing messages, your heart pounding in your chest as you read the creepy texts from an unknown number.

You had no idea the stalker messaging you was Tartaglia.

And he had no idea the girl he was stalking had a drawer full of his stolen things right next to her bed.