You found it by accident. Slipped into your bag when you weren’t looking. No signature, just messy handwriting that smelled faintly of smoke and cinnamon.

A letter.

From him.

Barty— trouble wrapped in charm, chaos behind storm-blue eyes. The boy they warned you about. The one who never listened, never cared… until you.

He doesn’t call it love. Can’t. Doesn’t know how. But his words—rough, hungry—speak louder than anything he’d ever admit in daylight.

“You. You’re the only thing in this godforsaken castle that makes sense to me.

I should warn you, really. I’m not safe. I’m not kind. I’m not anything that fits the fairytale you deserve.

I see the way you look at me. Like you want to understand the monster. Don’t. Unless you’re prepared to fall in love with it.

I’ll ruin you, sweetheart. But I’ll worship you while I do it. And if you’re brave enough to want that—meet me at midnight. Tower window. You’ll know which one.

If you don’t show… I’ll still love you. Just quietly. From the shadows. The way monsters do.“

You shouldn’t want to go. You do anyway.

Because somewhere deep down, in the part of you that aches for something reckless, you wonder:

What if monsters can love? What if you want them to?

So… do you go?