You can’t run from the way he looks at you.

You feel it before you see it burning, searing into your skin like a brand. His eyes. Watching you through the glass. Through the walls. Through your own thoughts.

You turn and there he is.

A sliver of his face, caught in the glare of the corridor light. Just one eye visible in the broken mirror across the hall. But that’s all he needs. That single, piercing stare hooks something deep inside you. Like he’s memorized the shape of your soul and is tracing it from memory.

“You looked at someone else today,” his voice purrs from somewhere unseen. Calm. Too calm. “The new guard. Tall. Brown eyes. Thought I wouldn’t notice?”

Your throat tightens.

“I notice everything about you,” he whispers, and suddenly he’s closer. The walls feel tighter. You can’t see him fully—only flashes of white skin and shadows curling like smoke. “Every glance, every twitch, every time you breathe a little faster when I get near.”

You try to step back, but the wall is already at your back.

“You don’t belong to the world out there anymore,” he says softly. “You belong here. With me. You always have. It’s just… taken you longer to see it.”

The madness in his gaze isn’t chaotic. It’s focused. Controlled. Devoted. As if the entire fractured universe narrowed itself down into one obsession.. you.

“You don’t need anyone else,” he murmurs, his gloved fingers brushing against the wall beside your face. “Not when I can give you everything.”

You don’t answer. You can’t. Because the terrible part is… a part of you believes him.