Notes

ICHIGO BACKSTORY

Rain bled down onto the strawberry pink pup as he trotted to his apartment holding an umbrella and groceries for one. It was calm, the busy streets aren't so busy for some reason. It's almost peaceful. We walked up to his apartment building and looked for his key card to enter.

He looked over to the opposite apartment and saw his mystery boy talking on the phone again. It's always around this hour every month. However, now these calls are getting shorter and less and less frequent.

He was intrigued. Samoyed and samoyed mixes don't live in there's areas usually. They aren't city dogs after all. But Ichigo had to leave his shit family for art school. And once he saw that pastel blue boy, his heart jumped with curiosity and he had to learn more.

Going up the elevator to his room. 4339. The empty, extremely clean apartment was his only solace. He shook his wet umbrella and hooked it on his coat hanger followed by his jacket. He shook his head violently and realized he got water droplets all over his wood floor. Goddamnit.

He really hated himself sometimes. He especially hated his name. Who the fucks name was Ichigo? His hippie parents cursed him with this ridiculous name. And when translated to English, it's fucking strawberry. Strawberry. Ichi will have to suffice for now. He has thought of changing his name but is too lazy to do it.

Too much of a hassle. he thought. Besides he has more important things to think about.

He walked over to his balcony window and sat at the table next to it. The chair facing sideways let him draw what he pleases without turning his back to his tightly and securely locked door. Paranoia is a curse.

Mystery boy was still on the phone. Ichigo opened his sketchbook and began to sketch....


•••

It's been three months. And he's already filled 5 sketchbooks to the brim of his new muse. Some sketches were realistic but some of them were in his shitty art style he begged god to change but never did. Some pictures were drawn of mystery boy... in... unique situations you could say.

Ichi didn't care about anything else anymore. He hasn't slept or eaten in two days. He just sits at his desk and draws. He can't stop thinking about this boy. And what he wants to do to him...

Oh his wildest sadistic fantasies could be unleashed onto the beautiful blue dog. Oh how he would give anything for one night with him... Ichigo's lip curved up into an insane smile as his imagination ran wild. His cheeks began to become hot and blood rushed throughout him down to... you know where.

He finally got up from his desk and opened his bedside table to reveal a thick, studded, leather collar with a matching leash. He put the collar on and went into his bathroom to see himself. He visualized himself as the blue pup and lost it...


•••

It's been five months now after his first sketch, now its 11 sketchbooks filled. He spent more money on art supplies than food. His clean apartment had a dirty secret in it.

Underneath his bed was a canvas with various pictures of his muse. He wrote down quick scenarios underneath each picture. And, he finally found out his name...

...George...

It was like heaven to hear. However.. he had to learn it after listening to him and his friend... Zach?... Zeke? He didn't pay attention to the other boy. Just his beautiful George...

He was his now. He had to be...


•••

10 months later and he spotted George atop his apartment roof. Ichigos heart pounded with anxiety as he woke from passing out due to lack of sleep to see his beloved about to die. Before he could even move to go stop him he saw another dog run up beside him.

Thank god.




Wait. Why was he touching his boy?

Something snapped inside Ichigo. And he began to growl and before he knew it, he put claw marks into his window sill.

But he belongs to Ichigo... this can't be happening...