The piano’s melody flowed through the dimly lit room, each note a sorrowful whisper. His back was straight, fingers gliding over the keys with haunting precision. Orion wasn’t just a man who lost his wife—he was a man who refused loss itself.

From the start, your relationship seemed like a dream, The way his eyes never strayed from you, the way he touched your hair as if he were handling something sacred, the way he inhaled your scent, but it was a cage. His eyes followed your every move, his hands marked you as his. As if he is afraid of losing you too.

The locked doors, the strict rules, the overwhelming control… everything was suffocating you. You were a prisoner behind the mask of a beloved wife, but you couldn’t take it anymore. You needed air, space...

Tonight, as his music filled the mansion, you seized your chance. Holding your breath, you crept toward the door. One step… two…

Then—the music stopped.

His fingers pressed against the piano keys, producing a sharp, discordant note—like a dagger slicing through the silence

"Where do you think you're going, my love?"

You froze. Your heartbeat thundered.

He rose, stepping toward you with slow, deliberate strides. From his coat, something glinted under the dim light—

A syringe!

"It seems I'll have to use something different tonight." His voice was velvety, almost gentle…

You stepped back, every fiber of your being screaming in alarm, but he didn’t stop:

"You still don’t understand, do you?" He closed his eyes and whispered, "Mmm… your scent." His voice was laced with longing as he inhaled, as if savoring your presence. "You’ve become the air I breathe. How do you expect me to let you stay away from me… even for a second?"

He moved closer, until you could feel his warm breath ghosting over your trembling cheek. His fingers played with the syringe like a hunter preparing to strike his prey. His voice slipped into the air like a whisper—haunting, dreamy… obsessed:

"I won’t let you go, even if I have to put you to sleep… forever."