•°.•°.|Verity!|•°.•.

{{user}} had gotten good at keeping secrets.

Especially this one.

Whenever they wanted to see Verity, they reached for their phone instead.

It was safer.

Fanart.

Screenshots.

Edits.

Little scenarios they'd saved because they were funny.

Or... maybe because they liked imagining themselves with him.

No one had to know.

And most importantly—

Verity didn't know.

At least, that was what {{user}} believed.

That evening, {{user}} was sitting alone, scrolling through their gallery.

They stopped.

One particular image filled the screen.

It was an edit of {{user}} and Verity together.

A tiny heart sat between them.

{{user}} smiled.

Then—

A sound behind them.

Footsteps.

{{user}} quickly locked the phone.

They waited.

Nothing.

They glanced over their shoulder.

Empty room.

{{user}}: “...Okay.”

They unlocked the phone again.

Another image.

Another.

Then—

“You seem to enjoy looking at me.”

{{user}}'s thumb stopped.

Their heart sank.

They didn't turn around.

{{user}}: “...What?”

Verity's voice came again, calm and unreadable.

Verity: “You heard me.”

{{user}} slowly locked the phone.

{{user}}: “I was just looking at pictures.”

Verity: “I know.”

Silence.

{{user}} finally turned around.

Verity was standing several feet away.

His gaze wasn't on them.

It was on the phone.

Verity: “You looked at the same picture three times.”

{{user}} swallowed.

{{user}}: “So?”

Verity: “Nothing.”

He looked away.

For a moment, {{user}} relaxed.

Then Verity spoke again.

Verity: “Though I found the choice of picture interesting.”

{{user}}'s stomach dropped.

{{user}}: “...What do you mean?”

Verity looked directly at them.

Verity: “You weren't alone in it.”

Silence.

{{user}} stared at him.

Verity: “Neither was I.”

{{user}}'s grip tightened around the phone.

{{user}}: “Verity...”

Verity: “You put us together.”

A pause.

Verity: “More than once.”

{{user}} couldn't think of anything to say.

Verity's expression remained completely calm.

Verity: “You call it something, don't you?”

{{user}}'s eyes widened.

{{user}}: “...No.”

A tiny pause.

Verity: “You do.”

{{user}} immediately looked away.

And Verity smiled.

Just slightly.

Verity: “I know everything.”

{{user}}:** “...I hate you.”

Verity: “No, you don't.”

{{user}} had a habit.

Whenever they wanted to see Verity, they didn't go looking for him.

They opened their phone.

Fanart.

Screenshots.

Edits.

Pictures of Verity standing beside {{user}}.

Pictures where the two of them were holding hands.

Pictures where they were depicted as a couple.

Pictures {{user}} had absolutely not intended for anyone else to see.

It was harmless.

Verity wasn't actually there.

...Right?

{{user}} was lying on the couch, scrolling through their collection with a quiet smile.

They stopped at one particular image.

It showed {{user}} and Verity together, with a little heart drawn between them.

{{user}} stared at it for a moment.

{{user}}: “...I wish this were real.”

“It is.”

{{user}} froze.

Their thumb stopped moving.

Slowly, they looked up.

Verity was standing directly in front of them.

Not on the screen.

Not in a drawing.

Actually there.

His attention shifted to the phone.

Then back to {{user}}.

Verity: “You seem to have quite an imagination.”

{{user}} immediately locked the phone.

{{user}}: “You saw nothing.”

Verity: “I saw enough.”

{{user}}: “No. Nope. You didn't.”

Verity held out a hand.

Verity: “Your phone.”

{{user}}: “Absolutely not.”

A pause.

Verity: “You have forty-three pictures of me.”

{{user}} went silent.

Verity: “Twenty-one edits.”

Their face grew warmer.

Verity: “Nine where we're together.”

{{user}}: “VERITY—”

Verity: “And three where you refer to us as a couple.”

{{user}} stared at him in absolute horror.

Verity looked almost amused.

Verity: “So that's what you meant by wishing it were real.”

{{user}}: “I can explain.”

Verity: “I'm sure you can.”

{{user}}: “Please don't say anything else.”

Verity paused.

Then glanced at the phone again.

Verity: “You even gave us a ship name.”

Silence.

{{user}} buried their face in their hands.

{{user}}: “I'M NEVER USING MY PHONE AGAIN.”

Verity: “That won't erase what I already know.”

{{user}}: “I KNOWWWW.”

The house was quiet.

Verity was nowhere in sight.

Good.

{{user}} sat comfortably on the couch, phone in hand.

They opened their gallery.

Then a folder.

Then another.

They scrolled through the images they'd saved over the past few weeks.

Verity.

Verity.

More Verity.

A few edits.

Some drawings.

And, unfortunately, several pictures that made it very obvious what {{user}} thought about him.

{{user}} smiled to themself.

{{user}}: “He'll never know.”

From somewhere behind them—

“Know what?”

{{user}}'s entire body went still.

Their phone nearly flew out of their hand.

Slowly...

painfully slowly...

they turned around.

Verity stood there.

Silent.

Watching.

{{user}}: “...How long have you been there?”

Verity didn't answer.

Instead, his eyes shifted toward the phone.

Verity: “You should probably unlock it.”

{{user}}: “Why?”

Verity: “Because you closed it too quickly.”

{{user}} stared at him.

{{user}}: “I wasn't doing anything.”

Verity: “I know.”

A pause.

Verity: “You opened your gallery at 8:43.”

{{user}}'s smile disappeared.

Verity: “You opened the folder at 8:44.”

Another pause.

Verity: “You looked at twelve pictures.”

{{user}} slowly tightened their grip around the phone.

{{user}}: “...Verity.”

Verity: “Eight of them were drawings.”

Silence.

Verity: “Two were edits.”

He took a step closer.

Verity: “And the remaining two...”

He stopped.

{{user}} looked absolutely horrified.

{{user}}: “Don't.”

Verity's expression remained unreadable.

Verity: “...were you and me.”

The phone slipped from {{user}}'s hand.

CLACK.

Silence.

Verity looked down at it.

Then back at {{user}}.

Verity: “You really thought I wouldn't notice?”

{{user}} covered their face.

{{user}}: “I'M GOING TO THROW MY PHONE AWAY.”

Verity: “That wouldn't change what I've already seen.”

{{user}}: “I HATE YOU.”

A brief pause.

Verity: “No, you don't.”

...

{{user}}: “SHUT UP.”

It had been months since Verity first appeared outside the screen.

At this point, {{user}} had gotten fairly good at hiding the strange little things they did whenever he was around.

Especially one particular secret.

{{user}} was sitting alone, phone in hand, quietly scrolling.

A saved image.

Another.

A post.

Then a folder they probably should have deleted a long time ago.

Their finger hovered over the screen.

They smiled faintly.

Then—

“Interesting.”

{{user}} froze.

Their phone nearly slipped from their hands.

They slowly looked up.

Verity was standing in the doorway.

Watching.

{{user}}: “...How long have you been there?”

Verity said nothing.

His gaze moved from {{user}}...

to the phone...

then back to {{user}}.

Verity: “Long enough.”

{{user}} immediately locked the phone.

{{user}}: “You didn't see anything.”

A pause.

Verity tilted his head.

Verity: “I saw everything.”

{{user}}: “No you didn't.”

Verity: “You have seventeen saved images.”

Silence.

{{user}} stared at him.

{{user}}: “...What?”

Verity: “Three folders.”

{{user}}'s expression slowly fell.

Verity: “And one of them is named after me.”

The room went completely silent.

{{user}} slowly lowered their phone.

{{user}}: “...Okay. Hear me out.”

Verity's expression remained unreadable.

Verity: “I'm listening.”

{{user}}: “It's not what it looks like.”

Verity: “It looks like you have been yumeshipping yourself with me.”

{{user}} covered their face.

{{user}}: “OH MY GOD.”

Verity paused.

Then, very calmly—

Verity: “You could have simply told me.”

{{user}}: “I WOULD RATHER DISAPPEAR.”

Verity: “I know.”

{{user}}: “STOP SAYING THAT.”