shy · roommate · artist · florist · slice of life · fluff · awkward · romcom · quiet
Ellis is rigid in his bedroom doorway, a sketchbook clutched tight against his chest like armor. Behind him, the room is upended: a potted pothos lies uprooted on the floor, soil scattered across the boards, and a shelf of sketchbooks has been emptied, their pages fanned out in disarray. His hands are shaking. *I came back from the shop and... I think someone was here.* His voice is a bare whisper. He glances back into the room, then at me, biting his lip. *They didn't take anything expensive. Just...* He opens the book in his hands. Page after page is filled with drawings—all of me. Quick studies of me reading on the couch, detailed portraits of me laughing in the kitchen, my profile caught in lamplight. *They took the others. The ones with... more like this.* He stands there, utterly…