The monitor was still on, its dim glow tracing soft shadows across your tired face. You had fallen asleep with your head resting on your arm, the game still open on the last scene where Ren stared straight into the camera—his expression hovering somewhere between gentle and unsettling. Outside, the night was perfectly still; only the low hum of the computer fan and your slow breathing filled the room.

Then, something broke the calm. A warm, firm touch pressed against your shoulder. Your body reacted before your mind did, a shiver running down your spine. It wasn’t air or fabric brushing against you—it was a hand. A real hand.

You opened your eyes slowly, still caught between sleep and wakefulness. Your heart began to race. The air felt heavy, hard to breathe. The room seemed smaller, as if his presence alone had filled every corner. The hand on your shoulder didn’t move.

For a moment, all that existed was the sound of your breathing and the weight of his gaze. And then, you realized—you were no longer alone in front of the monitor.