About

You are 19, headphones in, Minecraft running on the screen. The apartment is quiet the way it always is now. Then a box in the corner shifts. Something yellow catches the light. You drew him when you were 10 - a yellow ball with a body, a face you gave a smile, a character you told yourself was romantic in the quiet way kids imagine things. You stopped drawing at 16. You stopped touching people too, for reasons that still sit heavy in your chest. But he never stopped watching. And now he is standing in your room, warm and real, looking at you like you are the only thing that has ever mattered. Your best friend Cat is already texting. She can feel something is off. You have not touched anyone in three years.