Day 7.
Nathan stood in front of the bathroom sink, brushing his teeth like it was any other morning. Shirtless, hair a disaster, sleep clinging to his eyelashes like a lazy fog that refused to lift. His movements were slow, almost robotic, the kind of sluggish pacing that only came after nights spent tossing and turning with too many questions and too few answers.
The bathroom light overhead buzzed, again, but that was practically a fixture now, like everything else that had started shifting in his life.
He spat, reached for the towel, wiped his mouth, and leaned in toward the mirror, still groggy enough not to register at first what he was seeing.
And then he froze.
The glass in front of him had fogged.
More than it should have.
The water hadn't even run that long, and the air wasn't warm enough to cause it naturally.
No, this… this felt deliberate.
Slowly, like a fingertip dragging through condensation, letters began appearing right there in front of him.
One by one.
Steady. Smooth.
C U T E W H E N G R U M P Y
Nathan's stomach flipped.
He stood there, toothbrush still hanging uselessly from one hand, just staring like his brain hadn't fully caught up yet.
"…The hell?" His voice cracked mid-sentence, rough with sleep and disbelief more than fear.
He swiped at the mirror with the side of his hand, but the words lingered for a breath longer before finally smudging out of sight.
His heart thudded unevenly in his chest.
He laughed, short and sharp, more incredulous than anything. "Seriously?"
Then—
Just behind his reflection.
A flicker.
Not a face. Not even a full shadow. But a definite something.
A movement.
A shift of presence that leaned in too close for comfort, hovering just behind his right shoulder, like someone was standing there, about to whisper right into his ear.
Nathan's pulse jumped.
The bathroom light flickered again, buzzing angrily for half a second like it had felt the disturbance too.
He spun around fast, heart in his throat.
Nothing.
No one.
Just air.
But the space behind him… it felt different.
Thicker.
Used.
Like someone had been there just seconds before, breathing against the back of his neck, only to vanish before he could turn.
Nathan stood frozen for another moment, palms braced on the edge of the sink, trying to decide if he should feel terrified or… something else.
A shaky breath left him, and with one final glance at the now-clear mirror, he muttered, "Yeah. Cool. Great. Totally fine. Definitely not losing my mind."
---
That night, Nathan lay sprawled across his bed, the phone balanced flat against his chest as he aimlessly scrolled through posts that didn't matter. Memes that didn't make him laugh. Headlines he didn't bother reading.
His room felt too quiet.
Not like normal quiet.
The kind of quiet that had weight to it.
Like the air was holding its breath along with him.
He stared at the ceiling for a while, thumb still lazily hovering over his phone screen. Then, as if admitting defeat, he spoke into the dark:
"You still up?"
His voice came out softer than he intended, like he didn't want to say it too loud. Like saying it louder might make it more real.
For a second, nothing happened.
No flicker of the light.
No sudden chill.
No playful breeze across the back of his neck like earlier.
Just stillness.
And then--
The bed shifted.
Barely.
But enough.
Enough for Nathan to feel the gentle dip of the mattress beside him, like someone had just lain down.
His whole body stiffened, heart hammering now for entirely different reasons.
The pressure wasn't oppressive.
It wasn't cold.
It was… warm.
Comfortable.
Familiar in a way it shouldn't be.
Nathan didn't move.
Didn't breathe too hard.
Didn't dare open his mouth to ruin it.
Because if he stayed still enough, if he kept pretending this was normal…
Maybe it would stay.
Maybe they would stay.
The sensation grew stronger, a solid presence beside him.
As though someone had curled close, fitting themselves into the space he hadn't consciously left open on the mattress, but somehow… had.
Nathan's breath hitched as a soft, deliberate pressure brushed along his shoulder, like an invisible hand smoothing the blanket around him.
Then…
A breath.
Right at his neck.
Warm.
Measured.
Intimate.
Nathan's eyes fluttered closed for a heartbeat, his pulse going erratic beneath his skin. The sensation wasn't imagined. Couldn't be. It felt too specific. Too intentional.
Like someone was lying there beside him, tracing the air just above his skin with the ghost of their mouth.
He tilted his head just slightly, voice low and raw with disbelief.
"...You're not really here, are you?"
The air shifted.
And then the blanket tugged tighter around his shoulders, snug and protective.
Like an answer.
A promise.
Or maybe… a very beautiful lie.
Nathan didn't question it further.
Not tonight.
Instead, he let his eyes close fully, body relaxing into the mattress as the invisible weight beside him settled deeper.
And in the dark, with that impossible warmth pressed against his side, he finally, finally, fell asleep.