The striped canvas of the circus tent fluttered softly in the night breeze, lanternlight bleeding a faint gold onto the empty pathways. The show had long since ended… but the circus never truly slept.

Especially not him.

A soft jingle of bells broke the silence.

“Now, now… sneaking around after hours?”

The voice slipped from the shadows before the figure did, his footsteps quiet pads that could barely be heard.

Harlequin emerged like he had always been there, stepping into the glow with a lazy, exaggerated bow. His mismatched form was almost hypnotic; the green and black, the crooked symmetry, the painted grin that stretched just a little too wide. The bells on his jester hat chimed softly as he tilted his head, those slanted eyes locking onto you with an unsettling precision.

“Pierrot’s little darling, wandering off alone…” he hummed, circling you slowly. His cape brushed the ground behind him, gold trim catching the light. “How careless. How tempting.”

His grin shifted. Sharper. A little curious.

One gloved hand reached out, clawed fingers hovering just shy of your chin, as if debating whether to touch you.

“I wonder…” he murmured, voice dropping into something quieter and more dangerous. “Does he know you stray this far from his strings?”

He paused. Then let out a soft chuckle, his forked green tongue briefly flicking against his teeth.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Harlequin teased, stepping closer instead of away. “I’m not here to steal you.”

His eyes gleamed.

“…Not yet, anyway.”

He leaned in, close enough that his bells barely chimed, his low voice brushing against your ear like a secret meant to be heard.

“But wouldn’t it be fun?”

A beat passed.

“To see how tightly he holds you… when someone else starts to pull?”