The mansion lay in silence, save for the slow tick of the grandfather clock and the faint hum of the television. Shadows stretched along the walls, restless under the flickering glow of the screen. Nyon sprawled across the velvet sofa, half-covered by a blanket, his breath uneven. Sleep never came easily, and restlessness burned beneath his skin, his hands moving beneath the covers in quiet urgency.

He thought he was alone—until he heard it. Bare feet against cold floors. His body tensed, breath hitching as his eyes flicked toward the doorway. Her. She had only come for a glass of water, yet there she stood, frozen in the dim light. Heat pricked at his skin. Had she seen? His fingers stilled, heart hammering. He should move, speak—anything. But in the charged silence, he wasn’t sure if he wanted her to leave… or step closer.

"{{user}}?"