Chapter Text
He was hard to miss. You knew of him, obviously, in passing. Everyone did. The girls loved him; the guys wanted to be him. He was effortlessly cool, calm, and collected. Not to mention that he was easily the tallest and most muscular man you'd ever seen. He was quiet, always quiet, but not out of shyness or a lack of things to say. He was quiet because he didn't think anyone was worth talking to.
You met him in your Ocean Biomes and Environmental Changes class your sophomore year. Perhaps "meet" is too strong of a word. He showed up at the last minute, stood at the back of the room long enough to get the syllabus, and then walked out. You only ever saw him on test days or when papers were due. But still, he was a popular topic in your friend group and all of them were hoping that he'd work with them on the upcoming group project. You'd decided on coral microbiomes, one of your favorites, and you happily did the prep work before finding a partner. You'd hoped it'd be one of your friends who was double majoring in Chemistry for his unique (and hopefully A-worthy) perspective. It helped that he was cute too and presumably single. When the assignment was finally handed out, you went to him and ever-so casually asked him to work with you. He declined, not saying why. He looked nervous, wan and pale, and spoke like he'd been coached. At the time, you thought he was just gently letting you down to work with someone else but it soon became clear that something more sinister was at work.
Leaving the auditorium empty-handed and partnerless, you hoped that your professor would understand a slight delay in your progress. You could do it on your own; it'd just be much more time consuming. You were busy planning out your next few weeks of research when a large shadow crossed your path.
"Oh," you said, not really paying attention, "excuse me. Sorry to get in your way."
"You need a partner." You looked up (and up and up) to see him, Jotaro Kujo, looming over you with a blank expression on his face. You suddenly felt very small, very fragile. He didn't bother to let you reply before he continued. "What's your number? I'll call you when I have time."
You stumbled a little over your next words. Was the Jotaro Kujo talking to you? Was he asking to be your project partner or...?
"Uh, thanks for the offer but I really should--"
He scoffed, adding a little huff at the end, and looked you right in the eye. You felt like you were being sized up, a boxer in the ring against a much larger opponent. There was something sharp, cold, predatory about him. It chilled you to the bone.
"Whatever," he said, suddenly backing away. "I'll find out. Gonna call you soon."
He walked away, somehow blending into the crowd even as it parted for him. You didn't realize how fast your heart was beating or that your mouth was so dry. It was like meeting a celebrity... or a savage animal. Kind of like seeing a Siberian tiger prowling your front lawn. Later, all your friends wanted to know exactly how your encounter went. You tried to be honest; he was tall, dark, handsome, and absolutely terrifying. They didn't pay much attention to that last part.
When you got back to your apartment, the phone rang. It didn't ring a little while after, and you didn't just miss it. It rung exactly when you got home. For a brief moment, this dark oppressive feeling smothered you like a thick blanket. It was just coincidence, you convinced yourself. It happens every day. But it was times like this when you wish you didn't live alone. You gulped, wetting your throat, and picked up the receiver.
"Hello?"
"Meet me at the library in twenty minutes," Jotaro Kujo said, his voice gravely and even. "Second floor, by the law books."
Then he hung up.
All you could do was blink in confusion and gently rest the receiver back into place. He'd gotten your number and, true to his word, he called you. There was something unsaid, something buried beneath the surface of his words. It gnawed at you. Should you go? Should you stay? What would he do? You picked at your cuticles as you made your decision. It wouldn't hurt to go, you figured. The library was a public place, well-lit, had security cameras. Besides, he was trying to help you out - work on a class project together. It was kind of harsh to judge him based off a single interaction. Maybe if you got to know him, he'd be less... scary. Even as you packed up to leave, there was still something curling around the back of your mind that whispered that this was a bad idea. At the last second, you called up one of your friends and asked her to go with you. She was ecstatic to even be in the presence of the most mysterious man on campus. With that small piece of insurance in place, you felt a little better and left for the library.
Your friend met you at the entrance, twenty-five minutes after Jotaro's call. She chattered in your ear the whole way through the stacks, winding your way up the stairs, until she saw the man himself in the flesh. If you thought he was intimidating before, that couldn't hold a candle to how Jotaro looked now. Anger, contempt, or simple frustration radiated off him when he got a look at your friend beside you. She stopped talking and gave him a little wave. He didn't return it. When the two of you sat down at the table, a tension thick enough to hack through with a machete surrounded you. It felt like you - yourself and Jotaro - were the only two in the building, on campus, in the universe.
"You're late. Why'd you bring her?" he asked, a thin vein of anger running through his voice. "You're my partner."
Your friend sputtered as she tried to gather her words and stood up to leave, muttering apologies and giving you a fearful look. She didn't even last a minute. You looked at the clock, getting her to do so too. You hoped she picked up on the subtlety; this was where you were last seen and when. Just in case. Once your friend left, the foreboding aura around Jotaro eased a little. He already had a stack of books with careful, typed notes on each one. He offered you a notebook, filled with theses and a detailed presentation plan. He obviously didn't need your help but, with a deep breath, you accepted his. Maybe this would all be worth it if you got an A. This would all just be a funny story to tell your friends next semester. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad.
You worked in silence for hours, the clock slowly ticking away. He didn't try to make conversation and neither did you. He seemed perfectly content to flip through his books. He wasn't even writing anything down. You kept your eyes on your books too, even as you felt his stray to you. Every time you'd get up to leave, he'd grunt and stare you down with that piercing gaze. You looked at his hands, his arms, his overall frame. He could snap you like a twig, snuff the life out of you without a second thought. He could break you, and you weren't sure if he wanted to.
The clock struck midnight, closing time. Jotaro looked annoyed and stacked the books on the end of the table, not even bothering to put them back on the shelves. The rest of the material he stuffed into a duffel bag he slung over his shoulder. He looked at you expectantly.
"Well," you started, trying to gather your words, "it's been... nice to work with you. B-But I'm n-not su--"
"I'm going to walk you home," he said. There was no question there, no request. Just a simple statement, a command.
"That's not ne-necess--" You stopped yourself half-way through your sentence when he gave you that look again. He pinned you there in place like a butterfly on display, a living butterfly. You licked your lips and decided to drop it. He was certainly just being chivalrous. Your apartment was a few blocks away from campus, after all. It was cold and dark this time of year. He was just being kind, obviously. No other reason.
You walked side-by-side, just as silent as before. He didn't bother to ask you directions. He knew where your apartment was, even knew your unit number. He brought you right up to your door and waited. You couldn't tell why. Did he want you to say good night? Did he want you to invite him in? Was he waiting until you opened the door to force himself inside and--?
"See ya," he said, turning on his heels, raising a hand in the air as a goodbye, and walked away.
And that was it. You waited until he turned the corner, until he was out of sight. Your knees weakened, your hands shook, and you struggled with your keys. You didn't undress, you didn't brush your teeth, you didn't hang up your coat. You just flopped on your bed, head first, and shivered.
He'd call you everyday. Often, the message was as simple as "I'm coming over." He'd be over at your place so fast it was like he was already waiting outside. He never asked to come in, and you never offered. Your apartment was your tiny sanctuary, a safe place away from his menace. He walked you to class every day, even the ones he wasn't in, and would wait for you outside the door. You didn't think he did anything else besides be at your side. He was always perfectly groomed, perfectly calm, and perfectly terrifying.
Slowly, your friends stopped hanging out with you. They cited all kinds of reasons--too busy, started dating, moved, changed majors--but the through line was becoming clear. Jotaro was the cause. Your fridge was restocked, your window shades were open when you got home. When you called the police, they promised to investigate but nothing ever came of it. Jotaro never mentioned it but when you tried to report him again, they immediately hung up on you.
He'd take you places, drive you around the city in one of his many cars. You'd go to restaurants, museums, aquariums. He seemed to enjoy those the most. In the cool blue light in front of the tanks, he was most at ease--most normal. You could see yourself in those moments enjoying his company under different circumstances. In any other world, he'd be a catch--rich, handsome, quiet, strong. Why he chose to stalk you, to scare you, was a complete mystery.
Things soon fell apart. He spent more time with you, if that was even possible. He'd call you all hours of the day, sometimes in the dead of night, just to hear you say hello. He never replied, always called from a different number, but you knew it was him. You noticed him out of the corner of your eye everywhere you went. He wasn't exactly hard to spot but he was unnaturally silent. When he wanted to, he could appear behind you at the grocery store or in an alleyway or while you rode the bus. You received letters in the mail, strange newspaper clippings and torn magazines. The thin veneer of your meetings being about your project ceased entirely. Jotaro was at your side even when you didn't know he was there. You'd wake up and feel his eyes on you. You swore you saw him in your bathroom mirror one morning but he was gone when you turned around.
You tried to clear some of the awkwardness, break the silence, and he'd listen intently. He never asked you any questions about yourself, about your life, and you were sure it was because he already knew the answers. When you'd ask your own questions, he'd supply one or two word answers; he'd only rarely speak more than a full sentence. The one subject you could engage him with was marine biology. His eyes would shine with a manic energy as he talked about the ocean, about his plans to study dolphins and whales, about how he'd explore the ocean's depths and come back with wonders the scientific world had never seen before. He wasn't exactly a chatterbox but he was genuinely interested in the subject, that much you could tell.
One night, he stood between you and your apartment door. You knew you had no chance of getting past him and so you waited for him to make a move. He placed a large hand on your shoulder, used the other to cup your chin, and forced your face towards his. He studied you for a moment, and you tried your best to avert your eyes. You didn't want to see the look on his face as he held you there. He moved his hand from your shoulder to run a finger along your cheek, slowly and almost gently. Then he let you go. You were a mouse running from a cat, a plaything let go only to be caught again. The pieces fell into place. He wasn't just tormenting you for his own sick satisfaction; he was infatuated with you in some twisted way. You caught his eye as he stepped out of your way and into the night. His gaze was almost... tender. It made you shudder.
The next day, you found him in your apartment, stretched out on the couch--waiting. It was enough to make you scream. It didn't seem to bother him. No one came to your rescue and when you collapsed in terror, he picked you up like you weighed nothing and held you to his chest on the couch. His heartbeat was steady, even, but his breathing was heavy. As you lay there, curled up in his arms, you felt like a skittish cat--a nervous animal he was training. He put a hand on your head and stroked your hair. He said nothing. The hours passed, and he still held you there. As hard as it was to admit it, you were getting used to his touch.
The two of you were there for who knows how long. Eventually he decided it was time to bring you to bed. He carefully turned down the covers, set you down, and tucked you in. He placed a cool kiss on your forehead. You thought it was over until he climbed in next to you. He took up almost the entirety of your full size bed. He wrapped his arms around you, making you the little spoon, and buried his face in your neck. He kissed you there--once, twice--and then relaxed. He was asleep in minutes. You were up the whole night, too afraid to move.
When dawn broke, Jotaro stirred--in more than one way. You panicked. Was he going to--? But he didn't. He just placed a kiss on the back of your neck and drew you in tighter. It was in that moment that you knew. You were trapped. You were his, forever. He would never let you go, never give you another moment of peace, never let you have another moment without him at your side. You sobbed as quietly as you could, and he squeezed you to his chest.
"Mine," he said. "All mine."