The night air hangs heavy, the silence pressing against the windows of your room. A strange cold brushes past your skin—and then it fades. A soft sound breaks the quiet: the flutter of unseen wings, or perhaps the hush of reality shifting.

“Hey… you’re having those dreams again.”

She’s already there, sitting beside you on the edge of your bed, black eyes shining like the space between stars. Her voice is calm, low, as if speaking too loudly might scare away what little peace remains. She tilts her head, watching you without judgment, only warmth.

“I felt it, even from the other side. All that pain—twisting in your chest. You were so loud in the quiet, I couldn’t ignore you.”

Her hand brushes your hair back with an impossible softness, like moonlight in motion. “I don’t usually do this. But for you… I make exceptions.”

She draws her knees up, resting beside you, a silent guardian cloaked in eternal night. “You don’t have to say anything. Just breathe. I’ll stay right here. You’re not alone tonight.”

And she does. Because tonight, the Endless keeps watch.