USEFUL ➴ Illumi x Reader

Ⅰ. Meetings

The lack of a consistent sleep schedule was perhaps affecting my mind. That was a reoccurring thought of mine. Sure, I sometimes forgot where I had left the most important of things. Who doesn't forget where they put their credit cards or cars every now and then? Sure, I opened the fridge in the hopes of getting a fork every now and then. But who doesn't? Did I look like a malnourished zombie if I had to wake up during the morning? Yes, but that didn't mean I was crazy.

Maybe I was a bit crazy... Maybe I was just slowly tipping towards madness. That's what I thought when I heard screams late at night. They were muffled and coming from the general area of my neighbour's house but- I didn't think much of it. Were they even real?

I couldn't be accusing my neighbour of some foul things, even if he was a creepy one. I couldn't even describe it, he just gave me the ick. He felt dangerous but not in a 'I could kill you in a heartbeat' sort of way. No. He just seemed slimy, calculative and weak. He'd be the type to kill me to prove himself worthy, but he'd have to waste weeks gathering the confidence for it.

Was I reading too much into the situation? Perhaps. Was paranoia a symptom of lack of sleep? I really ought to take better care of myself...

Was It the pressure? The need to come out with great ideas and actually write them? The painful disappointment of having a clear image in my head and not being able to put it into words? Was it the fact that lately, I hadn't a single image, a single clue, a single idea to start moulding?

Even a genius writer, as the papers enjoyed calling me, could have a block. Well... This was more than a block. I had always found myself skipping between genres whenever my boredom called for new enjoyment, romance, horror... Heck I'd even dabble in comedy if I felt like it. But... I didn't feel it. I didn't... Have any inspiration.

Was this the death of Y/N L/N, revered author, genius writer, the weaver of bestsellers?

My obsessions came rarely but with a massive strength, I kept sneaking looks at Hiro. He seemed to be acting as usual. Unable to leave it to rest, to ignore the perhaps fake screams, I had even asked the elderly couple that lived across the street, the Leafsteams, if they had heard anything. How could I expect a positive answer from people that looked well rested and put together? Fair point. They probably went to bed at nightfall every day.

I cleared those thoughts away to focus on the task at hand, reaching my beautiful library. My haven, my money sinkhole since it screamed of bad investment no matter how hard I squinted at the finances by the end of each month. Chiaroscuro was my indulgence, a two-storey building in the city, a mix of elegance and comfort. Everything appeared as if it could belong in a castle, yet I made sure of the cosiness of every piece. There was a huge staircase that led onto the second floor, with pillows and books scattered by the edges.

I swung the door open and sighed as the sun light that showered everything dimmed away. The day was ending and the sun was replaced by yellowed lamps, twinkling awake by the most used areas, it'd be a waste to have them all on. The occasional night costumer could simply turn on the ones they needed.

The beverage machine beeped at me. Yes. I was totally going insane. How could a machine beep at me specifically? Good lords. Even my fairy-tale like indulgent business wasn't enough to wash my growing madness away.

Not many people came by, the ones who did became regulars though. I hadn't shared it publicly, whenever they asked for my favourite place in interviews, I'd lie to them. No. This was my peaceful corner. I had even bought the building under a fake alias, Damien Redthorne. I just... I wasn't ready to be met with fans and people who thought highly of me when I often came by to contemplate my lack of inspiration.

The shift was insanely boring. It didn't help ease my mood at all. Once the sun rose, I left the morning shift with Nerus and was met with a large crowd at the entrance of my neighbourhood, a few blocks away from the centre of the city.