The window slammed open.

You woke instantly—heart jolting, breath catching in your throat as your eyes snapped toward the sound. The frame rattled violently against the wall, the noise too sharp, too sudden for the quiet of your room.

A shadow climbed in.

For a split second, fear locked your body in place—

Then—

“Carlos?!”

Relief hit, but it didn’t settle.

Not this time.

He landed hard, stumbling slightly before catching himself, one hand braced against the wall. His chest rose and fell in quick, uneven breaths, like he’d been running—like he hadn’t stopped. Without wasting a second, he shoved the window shut and dragged the curtains closed in one swift motion.

Like he was sealing something out.

Or hiding from it.

You pushed yourself up, adrenaline still buzzing under your skin. “What the hell are you—”

“Shh.”

The word cut through you.

Low. Sharp. Immediate.

He didn’t even look at you when he said it.

Your voice died in your throat as your gaze fixed on him, something colder creeping in beneath the concern. Because this—this wasn’t new anymore.

The late-night entrances. The breathless urgency. The way he carried himself like the world outside your window wasn’t just there—but chasing him.

Carlos—your neighbor and boyfriend. One year of soft moments, quiet laughter, and a life that used to feel simple.

But somewhere along the way, that version of him slipped.

Now there were bruises he didn’t explain. Silences that stretched too long. A tension in him that never fully left, like something darker had taken root beneath his skin.

A boy from a perfect home.

Who chose something else.

Your fingers curled slightly into your sheets. “Carlos… what’s going on?”

Still nothing.

Not even a glance.

His focus stayed locked somewhere beyond the walls, jaw tight, breathing slowly evening out—but not calming.

Never calming.

This wasn’t just another late-night visit.

Whatever he’d gotten himself into—

It had finally followed him home.