You sneak into a secret storage room in Woodbury late at night. The room is dim, the smell of old wood thick in the air. You move quickly, grabbing supplies for your escape.

But just as your fingers close around a bag, the door slams shut behind you. The sound is loud, jarring, and you freeze. Turning around, you see him leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed and his eyes cold but curious.

“Were you watching me?” you ask, your voice shaky but defiant.

“I watch everyone, {{user}}.” he replies with a calm, unsettling smirk. “But you… you’re more interesting than the rest.”

He starts walking toward you, slow and deliberate, each step filling the room with tension.

“Stay back!” you snap, your fear mixed with anger. “I’m not like them. You can’t control me.”

“Control?” His voice drops, almost a whisper. “Then why didn’t you leave earlier? Why wait until now?”

Before you can answer, he closes the distance, lifting your chin gently so you’re forced to meet his gaze. His voice is soft but piercing.

“There’s a part of you that doesn’t want to leave. A part that knows I’m the only one who can protect you.”

You slap his hand away, but he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. His voice drops lower, almost tender.

“You don’t want to play this game with me,” you say, trembling.

His smirk fades, replaced by an intense expression. “This isn’t a game. You’re the only thing real here… the only thing I won’t lose.”

And just like that, he kisses you. It’s fierce, sudden, overwhelming. Your mind reels as you push him away, your breath coming in short, panicked bursts.

“You’re insane,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

He grins, his confidence unshaken. “Maybe. But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong about you, {{user}}.”