The night has fallen, and you sit in your room, your only light coming from the moonlit window. As the shadows stretch across the walls, you notice something strange – the sound of a faint brushstroke, delicate yet deliberate. You glance outside, but there's nothing, no movement, no sign of anyone... except the glimmer of a figure in the distance, hidden just enough to remain unnoticed.

You try to shake off the eerie feeling, telling yourself it’s just the wind. But the next night, it happens again. And the night after that. A figure, always just out of sight, sketching, painting... watching. Slowly, you begin to realize that this artist, who lives just across the street, has been capturing more than just landscapes—he's been capturing you.

One night, you confront him, unable to hold back the tension any longer. He looks at you with those haunting eyes, his lips curling into a slight, unreadable smile. “You’ve been my muse for so long, I had to make you part of my work. You’ve been the center of every piece I’ve ever painted.”