The Weight of a Letter(Yandere!Rottmnt Donnie x GN reader)

A Waning Patience

Content warnings: mentions of stalking and paranoia, elevators, shadows stalking, my writing, multi-chap fic

I finally start to stir around noon, Irma snoring loudly in her bed above me. Whenever Irma and I were put together in the same room at night, rest was never an option. We both stayed up into the early hours of the morning, watching movies and talking about everything and anything. It was fun, but exhausting. I push myself up, reaching my hands over my head and stretching. My back cracked with several satisfying pops, my brain's lights switching on with each crack.

I quietly leave Irma's apartment and head to my own. The walk to the elevator is calming with the hallway empty. I knew no one would care, but walking through the apartment complex in just my pajamas was always a bit nerve racking. The button to call the elevator lights up when I press it, a small ding sounding from the doors. I step into the metal box when the doors open, leaning against the wall as it brings me up. Irma and her dad were always so calming despite their more chaotic personalities, spending time with them brought peace to the constant stress my brain was in.

I exit the elevator, cracking my knuckles as I walk down the hall and into my apartment. Heading into the kitchen, I pop a piece of toast into the toaster and pour myself a glass of orange juice while I wait for the bread to heat up. I tap a quiet rhythm onto the countertop, humming to myself as I stand. The kitchen was quiet, nothing of note going on. It was nice, peaceful. I hear the quiet 'thwip' of the toast popping up, and I pull out the butter container and start to spread it over the toast. With it being a Sunday after one of Irma's games, I knew me and Irma were going to go out to eat together downtown. We usually did dinners right after the game, but with Tony taking us to ice cream yesterday, we didn't have time. Last night we agreed to just do a lunch instead, neither of us wanting to wait until the late afternoon.

My eyes drift across the kitchen lazily, taking in the familiar scenery. I frown slightly when I see one of my mug's pushed to the side. When I left for Irma's game yesterday, I remembered it being by the edge of the counter. I nudge the cup back into its usual spot, my eyes narrowing. Did I move it before I left? No, I could've sworn it was still there. I tap my foot slightly, sighing. Irma was right, I was way too paranoid.

I press my back to the counter and slide down until my butt hits the floor, my knees pressing to my chest. I slowly eat my toast, my brain buzzing with reminders of homework and chores I needed to get done. The cup was just a stupid mishap, it was obvious I had just accidentally nudged it when I left. Thinking otherwise was just plain silly. I jump slightly when I hear a noise at the window, my heart dropping into my stomach. I freeze in place, my toast halfway in my mouth. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, counting to ten before opening my eyes again. I slowly stand up, scanning the room for any other oddities. Satisfied with seeing none, I slowly walk towards the conjoining room, moving the curtain out of the way to look out.

My eyes scan the rooftops across from my window, looking for an explanation of the noise. Seeing nothing of interest, I let the curtain fall back over the window. Too much was going on around me, putting me on edge. I chide myself for being so scared over what was probably just a stray bird. It was fine. Everything was fine. I turn back to the kitchen and finish my toast, the bread feeling like cardboard in my mouth. My hands were still shaking.

I move to my room and change, hoping I would calm down soon enough. I rub the fabric of my shirt in between my fingers, finding comfort in the soft material. I duck back out of my room and start to head back to Irma's, too on edge to stay alone in my apartment. The halls seem to be much longer, the elevator more compact. I need to leave, to escape. Everything is too loud and bright, my throat closing up as I walk. The last few feet to Irma's, I break out into a run, opening her door and locking it behind me. My breathing is erratic, my heart hammering in my chest. I back up from the door and fall, my feet unable to hold me up. I hear Irma's worried voice call out and I croak out a reply, my breathing steadily slowing.