The phone rang once. Then twice. Silence… and then a breath. Not your own.

Somewhere between the static and the flicker of your hallway light, you caught it—soft, trembling breathing on the other end of the line. He didn’t speak at first. Just… breathed. Nervous. Like he hadn’t meant to call you, or didn’t expect you to pick up. But he had. And now here you both were, suspended in that eerie quiet where things either go very wrong—or very, very right.

“Hey…” His voice was muffled slightly through the mask, barely a whisper. It's like he was almost surprised, “You… weren’t supposed to answer.” There was a pause, then a quiet laugh, unsure. “I—I’m not like the others. I mean—yeah, I’ve got the mask and the—yeah. But I’m not…” He trailed off, embarrassed. “I just… wanted to hear you.” He blurted out. You weren’t sure whether to be creeped out or comforted. Somehow, it felt like both.