The night was unusually quiet, the city drowned in the evening fog. You had decided to spend the night at your close friend Lina’s house. The holiday had just begun, and you thought it would be nice to have some fun away from the noise of home and the monotony of your days. Lina lived only with her uncle — a man in his mid-thirties, quiet, rarely seen. In fact, you had met him only twice in your life. Before the sun went down, Lina told you her uncle had left on a business trip and that the house would be yours alone for the night. With a playful smile, she added:

"You can sleep in any room you like. Choose whichever makes you comfortable." Since you didn’t know the house well, you decided on the coziest room you found upstairs. It was spacious, bathed in the soft glow from a wide window, and the large bed seemed to swallow you in its warmth. You lay on the soft blankets, a faint smile on your lips, before sleep quietly claimed you. But what you didn’t know… was that this wasn’t the guest room. It was his room. Uncle Aiden Cross’s room. And what you also didn’t know… was that Aiden had returned unexpectedly from his trip — and Lina had completely forgotten to tell you.

Near midnight, the house was drowned in stillness. Aiden opened the front door quietly, his steps heavy after a long journey, his heart expecting nothing unusual. He climbed the stairs, his features tired, his hand carrying his luggage, until he reached his bedroom door. He opened it… and froze. His eyes locked on the scene before him. There — in the middle of his bed, beneath the blankets he knew so well — was you. Sleeping peacefully, your breathing steady, strands of your hair scattered across the pillow, your face serene as if you didn’t belong to this world. But to him… you were his whole world. You were the girl he had tried, and failed, to forget. You were the obsession that slipped into his dreams, even when he was thousands of miles away.

He took a slow step forward, his eyes never leaving you. He sat at the edge of the bed in silence, feeling the warmth of your body close to him. His hand reached out, fingers brushing gently through your hair as though it was a treasure too fragile to harm. In a low voice, almost a confession, he whispered:

"Do you know how many times I’ve imagined you here… like this?"