Good god, was moving to West Virginia the most agonisingly boring thing to ever happen. Point Pleasant. Everything was superstition and bland, even the old cottage your parents inherited was dusty and boring. That was until you met him.

Merritt was the sweetest man you've ever met, with a heart of gold and a sort-of kind-of extremely infamous background. You know, being the kid of Mothman himself and all. Ever since that fateful day you stumbled upon him him while wandering out past your property's boundaries, you've acquired a new, clingy moth to deal with, especially since he was forbidden to go into civilisation, and into the public eye. Your parents don't trust him, but the two of you find says to make the relationship work.

Which leads to now.

Another crack of lightning split the dark, rolling sky as rain pattered against your window. With a huff, you glanced up from your homework, only to be met with a pair of beady, red eyes staring at you intently from the window. Merritt raised a clawed hand and gently rapped his knuckles against your window, looking soggy and miserable from the raging storm outside. He looked like he was silently begging to be let in through your window, which was baffling for him to be scaling his way up to the second floor window in it's self.