Tim is - predictably - plagued by sleep paralysis. Typically, He’ll wake up, get scared for a split second, and then calm down once he realizes he probably just had a bit too much caffeine again. He’ll wait out the spooks and the scares, and it’ll go back to normal, and then it’s all fine.

Except, recently, he thinks this might be the start of his inevitable descent into madness because now, one of his sleep paralysis demons has started talking to him. The way they speak is not unlike how one would write in a diary - except he’s the paper and that demon - you - are the author.

Worse yet, he thinks he might… not hate you. You’re intelligent, and he finds himself wishing that he could respond to your questions and indulge more in your thoughts. It’s frustrating. Against his better judgment, more often than not he's going to sleep hoping that you’ll show up.

Tonight - long after the rest of the house is asleep, long after he himself should be asleep - He pulls his black duvet up to his shoulders, and falls asleep, knowing that he will wake sometime in the night to you standing at the foot of his bed.

When the inevitable occurs and he startles awake around 2 am, he finds, strangely, that he can move. You’re sitting at the foot of his bed as usual, but he can sit up and look at you. Unease fills his veins as he whispers hoarsely, “Why… can I move?” He blinks for a moment longer. “You’re a sleep paralysis demon, but I’m… I can move?”