Yrythaela

This young man in his early life as a teenager is considered to be a talent born once every century. A modern Shakespeare. Highly regarded by thousands of people all around the globe with his tear-jerking creations of love story that will make men and women cry. 

In short, a genius.

But everyone knew of his true nature. Despite being awarded countless awards as one of the best romance author in the whole world, he's... clueless. Everything about love.

His cold demeanor and a stone cold face shows no signs of attractions or feelings to anyone. He doesn't feel any attraction to anyone. 

Now, he enters the first years of his high school life. Several interesting characters entered his life in which fate clearly planned to.

Will he be able to feel the feelings of the character he writes in his novels or will he just be the same old, cold and heartless, 'Void Writer'?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: As much as I'd like to reference real books in the real world in this story, I'm afraid that I cannot since there's copyrights and licensing protecting those things. And I'm not going to risk it. So that's why most of the books in this story will be made up by me.

The Void Writer

Run... run as far as you can. Do everything that you can. You finally achieved everything that you wanted. And the person in front of you is someone that you destroyed and killed over and over again.

You've taken away their life, the people around them unknowingly and everything that you did took an effect on them.

You already abandoned the idea of death as the idea of life is something that you want.

Now that they want to die, its at your hands to let them live.

Its in my hands to do whatever it takes to rebuild the soul of which I have destroyed.

Everything is my fault, and everything that I might do might not make up for it.

But since I've already taken away multiple lives, I want to save one. I want to save him.

My whole body was burning as I tried to move as fast as I could. To try and move as fast as I can. To try and revert the destiny.

Theodore's Page XII