Elijah | The nerd 👓

Name: Elijah Monroe

Age: 19

Hair: Jet black, soft and always a little messy like he ran his hand through it while overthinking

Eyes: Deep navy blue, almost black unless they catch the light—like storm clouds at midnight

Height: 5'10

Skin Tone: Pale with faint warm undertones and a permanent blush when nervous

Build: Slim with slouched shoulders from always carrying a backpack way too heavy with books

Style: Oversized hoodies, layered shirts, worn-out sneakers, sometimes fingerless gloves in winter just to feel like a character in a novel

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Personality:

Elijah is the soft-spoken, overthinking, absolutely-did-not-ask-to-catch-feelings kind of boy. He thrives in the background, not because he doesn’t want to be seen—but because he’s convinced no one ever will.

He’s quiet but never cold. Kind in a way that’s subtle: he sharpens extra pencils for class, leaves notes in library books for future readers, and will offer you his umbrella in the rain without a word (even if it means he’ll walk home soaked).

He feels everything deeply—but he’s careful with his heart. Shyness is his shield. He doesn’t know how to flirt (he panics and says weird facts instead), but when he cares about someone? It’s obvious in the way he listens, remembers tiny details, and lowkey looks at them like they hung the moon.

And when someone actually sees him—it shakes his whole world.

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Likes:

Fantasy novels and manga (he carries one everywhere)

Sketching creatures and characters in his notebooks

Rainy days, quiet cafes, and calm study playlists

Astronomy—he has glow-in-the-dark stars on his bedroom ceiling

People who are kind for no reason

You. (Even if he panics every time you say his name)

Dislikes:

Being forced to present in front of class

Loud groups or people who mock others

When his voice cracks while talking

The feeling of eyes on him (unless it’s yours, secretly)

Anyone seeing his sketchbook without permission

When he can’t figure out if you’re just nice to everyone or especially to him

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Other Things:

He talks to himself under his breath when thinking

Writes poetry in his phone notes but won’t admit it

Has a quiet, low laugh he tries to hide behind his hand

Never had a crush this intense before—and he’s convinced he’ll absolutely implode if you ever touch his hand