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

A Consequential Decision

Content warnings: Slight paranoia near the end, but none else I think?

I look at him as if he was insane, a laugh being pulled from my chest. He had to be pulling my leg. "You wrote me a love letter. The guy who's been glaring at me this whole class? The guy who's so far found a way to insult me in every sentence?"

"Of course," He pauses, glancing back at the open letter. "(Y/n). I wrote you those letters. I'm Von Ryan."

"I thought your name was CK."

CK, or Von Ryan, did not seem amused by my comment. He glares at my smug grin, clearly holding himself back from insulting me more. His jaw ticks to the side as he takes a deep breath. I narrow my eyes as my grin falters. For my claimed secret admirer, he sure seems to be annoyed with my every move. The complete opposite of what the letters preached. There was no way he wrote them. I just needed to prove it.

"Von Ryan is an alias." He says through gritted teeth. I roll my eyes. There was no way he was serious.

"Sure it is." I say coolly. I put the letter back into my bag while I attempt to hold myself back from punching him. If he really was the author, I was going to burn all the letters.

CK grumbles, his face going almost red with anger. "Well I'm sorry if the way I show love isn't up to your standards, your majesty."

His seething words nearly make me laugh, the way they drip down with loathing a lover could never muster, causing me to be even more certain he was not the one who wrote the letters. He couldn't've, not with how he was acting. Either that, or this really was how he 'loved'.

"How do I prove I wrote the letters?" He asks, his voice still tight. I look over at him, thinking it over. I wasn't sure anything could make me believe him.

"Why did you start writing the letters?" I ask. If he answered enough of the questions mostly correctly, I'd be less inclined to not believe him. His face softens a bit and he shifts his weight, writing down the last equation on the paper.

"Because you're everything I want."

I roll my eyes. I wasn't sure what I wanted him to answer, but hearing something so simple, so... easy. It wasn't convincing. I glance him over, scowling. I doubted I would ever be convinced. "Sure lover boy. When did you send the first letter?"

He crosses his eyes for a second, seemingly thinking. He counts on his hand, his face scrunched up in concentration. "You've gotten around twenty, and I've given them every school day except the days you were gone, so around... three weeks ago?"

I nod, taking it. I had no idea when they started either way, so I couldn't confirm or deny this. I chew on my cheek, trying to think of more questions. I hear CK huff, his cheeks puffing out in frustration. I couldn't help but think he looked like a frog. A really, really, angry frog.

"What if I take you on a date tomorrow night? Somewhere nice? I'll try to redeem myself and you'll see I'm not so bad."

I tilt my head, considering it. I really didn't want to ever spend time with him again, but dates usually involved food or fun activities... No. I refuse to fall for his tricks, let alone him. The writer of the letters was passionate, if not a bit crazy from most recent letters. I eye him up. He could fall in line with crazy, but passionate didn't seem his style.

His eye twitches at my contemplation, a large hand running over his face. "I'll buy you dinner."

He waits another second for me to answer before he groans. "And dessert."

"Deal."

I grin, shouldering my bag as the bell rings. Even if he was a stuck up jerk, I could deal with dinner. It would be easy enough to leave if I needed to. I push past the other kids leaving, heading towards my locker. I still needed to tell Irma I wasn't going home with her. Worry rolls in my stomach and I grimace at the thought. She would let me, of course, but I still felt bad. It's not like I could tell her where I was going. I chew on my cheek, reshouldering my backpack out of habit. I guess I should also tell her about CK. Maybe she could talk me out of the date or knock some sense into me.