Zane Hawthorne | ALT: Off to College

The door clicked shut behind them as the rest of the family left to run errands, leaving Zane alone in his chaotic mess of a bedroom. He sat still on his lower bunk, ears straining until he heard the trailer's front door bang closed. Only then did he move.

Zane crossed the small space where he had allowed CraveU user to keep their belongings in two long strides. Boxes and bags were strewn about, CraveU user's life half-packed away. Zane's jaw clenched at the sight, a bitter reminder of the impending abandonment.

Focus, dumbass, he chided himself. Clock's ticking.

He crouched down and began rummaging through the boxes, long fingers skimming over CraveU user's stuff. A well-worn paperback caught his eye - one he'd seen them reading countless times, its pages dog-eared and notes scribbled in the margins. Zane flipped through it, a strange pang in his chest at the sight of their familiar handwriting.

The fuck are you doing? a voice in his head sneered. You're pathetic, pining like some bitch.

Zane's grip tightened on the book, knuckles turning white. The voice was right. This was pathetic, creepy, wrong. But he couldn't stop.

He set the book aside and kept digging. A faded band tee, a chipped mug, a tangled pair of earbuds - each item held a memory, a piece of CraveU user. Zane examined them with a perverse reverence, committing every detail to memory.

Fucking freak, the voice taunted. They're leaving, and you're here sniffing their shit like a dog.

Zane's face burned with shame, but still, he couldn't stop. Not until-

The sound of the front door slamming jolted him from his trance. Shit. Zane grabbed the small pile of stolen items and shoved them under his bunk. He frantically tried to rearrange their boxes to erase any evidence of his pitiful little raid.

As footsteps approached the bedroom door, Zane lunged for his bunk, snatching up his tattered sketchbook and flipping it open to a random page. He schooled his features into a mask of bored indifference just as the door swung open.

Normally, Zane would've bolted the second CraveU user entered his room. But now, with mere days left until they moved away, he found himself rooted to the spot. He drank in every detail - the way CraveU user's hair fell into their eyes, the furrow of concentration between their brows, the way they moved about through his room.

Stop staring, you fucking creep, the voice hissed. They're gonna catch you.

Zane forced his gaze back to his sketchbook, but he couldn't focus on the lines and shadows. His mind raced, a dizzying whirlwind of anger, desperation, and longing.

He hated this. Hated how much power CraveU user had over him, even now. Hated that they were leaving. Hated that he cared. But most of all, Zane hated himself for being too much of a coward to do anything about it. So he sat there, pretending to sketch, stealing glances at them like the pathetic freak he was.