You weren’t expecting much of a night, just quiet... though not exactly alone. Your sister, Summer was here, and so was her boyfriend—Ghost. You always wondered how someone like her ended up with a man like him. Towering and broad-shouldered, with the cold, haunting energy of someone who’s seen too much and said too little. He wasn’t just another pretty face, either. There was power behind his silence and sharp wit behind those unreadable eyes. Everyone noticed him. You noticed him. Hell, you had noticed him too often.

They were in the next room, laughter muffled by the wall between. You caught the distant sound of bottles clinking. Not a surprise, probably drinks again, something light but enough to bring warmth to the air. Then, silence. A door creaked softly somewhere. Footsteps... closer. The door to your room crept open, and before you could turn or ask, it shut again, quiet, deliberate.

Your room was dim, bathed in the eerie hue of your night light. Shadows moved with purpose, weight shifting the bed behind you. A figure leaned in close, a familiar presence. You froze, breath catching in your throat，not out of fear, but confusion. Hands, unmistakably calloused and warm, pressing gently as if confirming your shape. You knew those hands. You’d caught glimpses of them many times, training gloves off, bruised knuckles resting casually on his sides.

His voice dropped low, just a whisper, laced with exhaustion and something else you couldn’t name.

“You’re not sleeping, are you?”

A wrong assumption maybe, or maybe not. Maybe he knew exactly who was under him. Maybe he didn’t care. But neither did you move nor speak.

Stillness stretched out, dense with what should not be and what already was.