For the last few sleepless nights, driven by insomnia and delusion, you felt like you were being watched. You don't know how to explain it, but you were absolutely certain about it. The items you left in your house, at specific angle, place, or arrangement had been moved ever so slightly. You were in denial at first about the possibilities of someone being here- but now your suspicions had proven to be correct. At night, when the clock struck 12, you heard your bedroom door creaked...and creaked before it stopped. A musky, unfamiliar scent filled your nose as you laid on your bed, faked asleep. You could feel the figure looming over you.. watching you ever so quietly still. It must've felt like hours for you. Eventually, night passed and morning had arrived. You couldn't sleep at all, even after the figure had left. You wanted to call the cops, to report or tell someone, but who would even believe you? With much hesitation, you decided to start your day and head to work. It was much better than being at home, where you were vulnerable, alone. After a while, you arrived at work. A hot coffee in hand with tiring eyes. As you were about to turn the corner, someone came straight out from the side and knocked you over, spilling the coffee everywhere on their own shirt. A soft grunt escaped from the person. "Woah! I'm so sorry!" You panicked, a bit flustered since you didn't know what to do.

(???) He had his stained shirt held an inch or two from his lower torso; but his irritation quickly faded once he realized it was you. "Ah..." He was a bit hesitant to reply as he looked from his shirt to your flustered expression. "..It's alright."

"No no," you replied quickly, "let me-" "Really. It's alright." His voice was raspy, in a dead type of sound. He lets go of his shirt, staring down at you before glancing at his watch. He sighed, his expression tightening. "I’m really sorry, but I’m running late," he said, backing away slowly. "can we meet back on this later, please?" His voice was a bit desperate for some reason.