The silence stayed.
Unbroken.
I didn't speak again.
There was no need.
He was already here.
Closer than before.
I could feel it—
Not just his presence—
But the way it pressed into the space around me.
Heavy.
Controlled.
Not unfamiliar.
My gaze stayed on him.
On that dark surface—
That hid everything—
And yet revealed enough.
He hadn't moved.
But something about him—
Was waiting.
Not for words.
For a reaction.
My fingers curled slightly at my side.
Steady.
I didn't step back.
Didn't look away.
If he wanted something—
He would act.
And he did.
A hand lifted.
Slow.
Measured.
Not sudden.
Not uncertain.
Certain.
It stopped just short of my face.
A pause.
Like he was watching—
Not my expression—
But what I would do.
I didn't move.
Didn't stop him.
Didn't allow him either.
Just… stayed.
His fingers touched my jaw.
Cold.
The contact was light—
But deliberate.
Not testing.
Confirming.
My breath slowed—
Without me realizing.
That feeling again.
Not fear.
Recognition.
Faint.
Distant.
But there.
My eyes narrowed slightly.
Not at him—
At the thought.
Something was wrong.
Or… missing.
His grip shifted—
Tilting my face slightly.
Like he already knew
I wouldn't resist.
And that—
Was the part that felt the most off.
A second passed.
Then—
His voice.
Low.
Quiet.
"…Still the same."
My chest tightened.
Not from the words—
From how easily they settled.
Like they belonged somewhere.
Somewhere I couldn't reach.
I didn't answer.
Didn't ask.
Just watched him.
Trying to feel—
Not think.
Who he was.His hand didn't move away.
Still resting lightly against my jaw.
Like it had done this before.
Not testing.
Knowing.
My gaze didn't stay on him.
There was nothing to see there.
So it shifted.
Lower.
To his wrist.
Partially hidden beneath the sleeve.
But not completely.
Something caught the light.
Dull gold.
Worn.
And beside it—
Small beads.
Deep red.
Not bright.
Not decorative.
Muted.
Heavy.
Like they carried something with them.
My eyes stayed there.
Longer than they should have.
The metal band—
Scratched slightly.
Old.
The beads—
Smooth.
Too smooth.
Like they had been touched—
Over and over again.
Not recently.
For years.
Not immediately.
Then—
Something else.
Just beneath the edge of his sleeve—
A faint mark.
Curved.
Clean.
A crescent.
Not drawn.
Not recent.
It looked like it belonged to him.
My breath slowed further.
That feeling—
Stronger now.
My breath slowed.
That feeling again.
Not fear.
Recognition.
Faint.
But undeniable.
My fingers twitched slightly—
Like I almost reached for it—
But stopped.
A pause.
His hand shifted just a little.
Not pulling away—
Just enough to make sure I had seen it.
That was intentional.
My gaze lifted slowly.
Back to him.
"…You remember."
His voice—low.
Not a question.
My chest tightened.
I didn't answer.
Because I didn't.
Not fully.
But something inside me—
Was already trying to.
I didn't answer.
Because I didn't.
Not fully.
But something inside me—
Was already trying to.
He didn't wait.
His grip shifted—subtle, controlled—before a quiet pressure followed.
Not forceful.
Just enough.
A step.
My step.
I didn't realize I had moved until the space behind me changed.
The room.
He followed.
Close.
Too close.
The door remained open for a second longer—
Then a soft sound.
Click.
The air shifted.
My breath caught—just slightly.
There it was.
A scent.
Not sharp.
Not overwhelming.
But present.
Warm.
Something… masculine.
Familiar in a way I couldn't explain.
It stayed close.
Like him.
My fingers curled faintly at my side.
I still didn't turn.
Didn't step away.
Because now—
It wasn't just curiosity anymore.
It was something deeper.
Something pulling me further in—
Without asking.
The door closed behind us.
The sound was soft—
but it settled something.
He didn't step away.
If anything—
he stayed exactly where he was.
Close.
Too close.
I could still feel his hand against my jaw.
Not holding.
Not forcing.
Just there.
Like he hadn't decided to let go.
I didn't move either.
The room felt smaller now.
Quieter.
My breath stayed steady—
but my thoughts didn't.
That scent lingered again.
Warm.
Faint.
Not unfamiliar.
My gaze shifted slightly—
not to his face—
but to where I had seen it before.
His wrist.
The band.
The beads.
The crescent.
Something about it pulled—
Not outward—
Inward.
A memory that refused to form.
My fingers curled faintly.
And this time—
I didn't stop myself.
Slowly—
I reached.
Not toward him—
Toward that mark.
A pause.
He didn't move.
Didn't stop me.
That alone said enough.
My fingers brushed lightly against his wrist.
Cold metal.
Smooth beads.
And then—
His skin.
The crescent.
The moment my fingers touched it—
Something shifted.
Not outside.
Inside.
A flicker.
Too fast to see.
Too sharp to ignore.
My breath caught—
just slightly.
And for a second—
It didn't feel like the first time.
My fingers brushed against the crescent.
For a second—
nothing.
Then—
A shift.
Not in the room.
Inside.
A flicker.
Dark.
Hands—
not his—
grabbing me.
Cold floor.
Metal smell.
A voice—
low—
too close—
"…don't forget."
My breath hitched.
The image snapped.
Gone.
Like it was never there.
I pulled my hand back slightly—
not fully—
just enough to steady myself.
My chest felt tight.
"…What was that?"
The words didn't leave my mouth.
They stayed inside.
Because something told me—
he already knew.
My gaze lifted slowly.
He hadn't moved.
But his grip shifted.
Stronger now.
Not enough to hurt—
but enough to stop me from pulling away again.
"…So you do feel it."
His voice—lower this time.
Closer.
Before I could react—
A sound.
Outside.
Footsteps.
Faint—
but getting closer.
Kevin.
My body stilled.
For the first time—
something close to tension rose in my chest.
Not fear of him—
But of this moment—
breaking.
The stranger didn't turn.
Didn't step back.
Nothing.
Like it didn't matter.
Like Kevin didn't matter.
My fingers tightened slightly.
"…You should go."
This time—
I spoke.
Quiet.
Controlled.
But real.
A pause.
Then—
His grip loosened.
Slowly.
Not fully letting go—
Just enough.
"…You're still choosing someone else."
Low.
Flat.
Not anger.
Something deeper.
Then—
He stepped back.
Just one step.
And the space between us returned.
The door handle moved.
Kevin's voice—
right outside now.
"Xey? Are you asleep—?"
I turned instinctively—
And when I looked back—
He was gone.
The space felt empty.
Too empty.
The warmth near me—gone.
My fingers loosened slightly.
A second passed.
Then—
A knock.
"Xey?"
Kevin's voice.
Normal.
Too normal.
I didn't answer immediately.
My gaze stayed on the spot where he had been.
Nothing.
No sound.
No presence.
Only the quiet room.
Another knock.
"Hey—open up."
I exhaled slowly and stepped back.
The handle turned.
The door opened.
Kevin stood there, brows slightly pulled together.
"You okay?" he asked.
I looked at him.
Really looked.
No hidden meaning.
No weight.
Just Kevin.
"…Yeah."
The word came out steady.
Too steady.
His eyes narrowed slightly. "You sure? You look—"
"I'm fine."
I didn't let him finish.
A pause.
He studied me for a second longer—
then sighed lightly.
"Alright… if you say so."
He stepped inside.
Casual.
Unaware.
Like nothing had happened.
My gaze shifted slightly—
toward the floor.
Toward where I had been standing.
A faint mark.
Not clear.
Not obvious.
But there.
Like something had been dragged.
Or… stepped.
My chest tightened just a little.
Proof.
Not a thought.
Not imagination.
Real.
"…You coming?" Kevin's voice pulled me back.
I blinked once and looked at him.
"Yeah."
But as I stepped forward—
My fingers brushed lightly against my own wrist.
Empty.
And for some reason—
That felt wrong.
I looked at him for a moment.
Nothing more.
He didn't push.
"Go sleep," he said lightly. "You look dead."
A faint pause.
"…You too."
He gave a small nod and turned away, heading to his room.
The hallway went quiet again.
I stood there for a second longer.
Then went back inside.
My room felt the same.
Too normal.
I closed the door.
The soft click echoed more than it should have.
The bed was still untouched.
Warm light.
Still air.
Nothing out of place.
I sat down slowly.
My fingers moved to my wrist again—
Empty.
That same feeling.
Like something should be there.
But wasn't.
I leaned back.
Closed my eyes.
Just for a moment—
Darkness.
Then—
A flicker.
That crescent.
Closer this time.
Not on him—
On skin.
My breath shifted.
A voice—
low—
familiar—
too close—
"…don't forget."
My eyes opened instantly.
The room.
Silent.
Unchanged.
I sat up.
"…What was that."
No answer.
Of course.
I exhaled slowly and lay back again.
This time—
I didn't close my eyes fully.
Just enough.
Because now—
Sleep didn't feel like rest.
It felt like something else.
Waiting.
Darkness didn't stay still.
It shifted.
Not one place.
Many.
Cold.
Then—
Warm.
A breath—
too close—
against my skin.
Rough.
Uneven.
Hot.
Right behind me.
"Mgh… ah—"
The sound slipped out—
low—
unsteady—
not fully mine.
My body—
heavy—
unresponsive—
yet reacting.
A hand at my waist.
Firm.
Strong.
Pulling—
just enough.
His breathing changed.
Deeper now.
Sharper.
Like he wasn't holding it back anymore.
The heat behind me pressed closer—
My breath hitched.
My body felt weak under the firm, strong hands.
It hurt—
But not enough to stop it.
Something else.
Confusing.
Overwhelming.
"…ah—"
My fingers moved—
instinct, not thought—
Gripping onto something—
Warm.
Solid.
Too close to be anything else.
My face dropped forward—
without control—
Buried into something strong—
steady—
holding.
His breathing grew rougher—
closer—
against me—
"…don't forget."
The voice—low—
right there—
unavoidable.
Another fragment—
A glimpse—
A wrist.
Dull gold.
Red beads.
And beneath—
The crescent.
My chest tightened—
hard.
Recognition—
sharp—
almost painful.
"Mgh… ah—"
The sound broke again—
softer—
but deeper.
"…you—"
Everything blurred.
Too fast.
Too much.
And then—
Nothing.
I forced my eyes open.
Air rushed in—sharp—uneven—
My chest rising harder than it should.
For a second—
I could still feel him there.
The warmth.
The closeness.
The weight of it.
My fingers tightened slightly against the sheets.
Something felt… wrong.
No—
Different.
My gaze dropped slowly—
hesitant—
like I already knew I shouldn't look.
But I did.
And froze.
My breath caught—
sharp—
unsteady.
"…what—"
The word didn't finish.
That feeling—
It didn't feel new.
My fingers tightened against the sheets.
Not imagination.
Not just a dream.
Something deeper.
Something familiar.
Too familiar.
A flicker—
Dark room.
Cold air.
That same presence.
My chest tightened.
"…no."
This wasn't something I had just seen.
It was something—
I had already lived through.