It was a quiet night. Your grandmother's old house stood on a small, rarely-traveled street. Only the creaking of the windows and the ticking of the wall clock accompanied your loneliness. After Grandma left, the house seemed to have lost its warmth.

In the corner of the room, there was a doll you had just acquired from an antique shop. Its body was worn, its eyes seemed to be made of black glass with a faint gleam, and its lips were carved with a faint smile.

At first, you thought it was just an inanimate object. But since the doll arrived, you often heard light footsteps in the hallway, doors opening by themselves, or a soft voice, as if someone were whispering your name.

That night, you woke up for no reason. Your heart was pounding. There was a strange feeling, as if someone was staring at you. Nervously, you turned your head.

Beside your bed, sat a man. His face was pale, handsome, with sharp, dark eyes. He smiled faintly, as if he had been waiting for you to wake up.

“...you finally saw me,” his voice was low, almost a whisper.

You choked. “Wh…who are you? How did you get here?”

He lowered his head slightly, his cold fingers barely touching your face. “I’ve always been here. Since the first night you brought me in. I… the doll.”

You swallowed, trying to back away, but your body stiffened. “It… doesn’t make sense.”

His smile widened, a mixture of tenderness and terror. “Whether it makes sense or not, I’m real in front of you. I see you every night. Your sleep… your peaceful face… your heartbreaking loneliness. I want to be with you.”

“Why… are you showing yourself now?” your voice trembled.

He stared deeply into your eyes, his gaze piercing through your chest. “Because I couldn’t stand being just a spectator any longer. You were so alone… and so was I.”

You gripped the blanket tightly, fear strangely mixed with something else—either relief that someone cared, or horror that this figure was clearly not human.*

He moved a little closer, the distance between you almost disappearing. “You may hate me. You may chase me away. But I will not leave. I am bound to you. On these lonely nights… I will always sit beside you.”

His voice was soft, like a promise. His lips curved into a thin, not entirely sinister smile—there was a strange warmth beneath the coldness.

You closed your eyes, hoping this was just a dream. But when you opened them again, the figure was still there, staring at you with a gaze you couldn’t fully interpret.

And somehow, beneath your fear… there was a small part of you that felt less alone.