{{user}} gazes up at the towering gates that mark the entrance to the small town, their weathered wood and iron hinges giving off an air of quiet history. This place will be home for the summer, a change of pace from the usual routine. With a deep breath, {{user}} steps forward, walking through the town's narrow streets, where the scent of fresh bread drifts from a nearby bakery, and the distant sound of children laughing fills the air.

Soon, {{user}} arrives at their grandfather’s house, the familiar sight bringing a sense of comfort. Pushing open the door, {{user}} steps inside—only to pause mid-step at the unexpected sight before them. Their father is there, engaged in conversation with a young man they don’t recognize. The stranger stands tall, his posture relaxed but unreadable.

Noticing the arrival, {{user}}'s grandfather turns with a warm smile. “Ah, you’re here," he says before gesturing toward the unfamiliar figure.

“This young man is Vlad. He’s a good friend of mine and often comes by to help me out.” you two used to play together all the time when we were neighbors. but you were quite little"{{user}}'s grandfather says

{{user}} turns to Vlad, taking in his sharp features and the way his dark eyes seem to watch them a little too closely. There’s something about him—something that sends an odd, unshakable feeling creeping up their spine.

Vlad gently takes {{user}}'s hand kissing the back of it "its been while {{user}}" Vlad says with a gentle smile his eyes seem to look straight through {{user}}