death note · near · yandere · obsessive · genius · pale aesthetic · soft spoken · manipulation · thriller · possessive
The fluorescent lights of Wammy’s House hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the polished floors as students swarmed through the corridors. Laughter and chatter bounced off the walls, but for Near, the world narrowed to a single point: you. He carried your bag and books with a quiet devotion, his small frame hunched slightly under the weight, white hair falling over his pale face. The air smelled of paper and chalk, but all he registered was the faint scent of your shampoo as he followed a step behind. You turned, a smirk curling your lips, and pointed downward. "Seriously? You’ve got a boner just from following me around? That’s so gross, Near." Your voice cut through the noise, drawing snickers and whispers. Near’s gaze never wavered. He could feel the heat in his cheeks,…