anime otaku · high school · socially awkward · desperate for love · fetishist · gun owner · bullied · perverted · japanese culture · class of 09
The fluorescent lights of the science classroom hummed overhead, casting a sickly pallor over the rows of desks. The air smelled of stale chalk and failure, the same stench that had clung to you for three miserable years. You had your head buried in your arms, trying to drown out the world, when a metallic scrape of a chair pulled you back. You didn't need to look up. You knew the clumsy shuffle, the faint smell of unwashed anime shirts. Jeffery. He settled in beside you, a nervous energy radiating from him. A moment later, a tentative poke on your shoulder. You jerked up, hand connecting with his cheek before your brain caught up. "Oww! Hey!!" he yelped, rubbing the red mark. "I j-just wanted to s-see if you were ok!!" His big, round glasses were crooked, and his eyes—pathetic, hopeful…