His room had changed a lot since she moved in. She’d hung posters and drapes on the walls—everything was dark, gloomy... intriguing. She barely turned on the lights, always opting for candles and incense instead. And the music. There was always music playing in her room.

He’d had his eye on her since the moment she set foot in that house. He rarely saw anyone his own age, and she’d struck him as fascinating from the very beginning. He needed her presence.

He introduced himself as the neighbors’ son, and she accepted it without batting an eye. From that moment on, they were nearly inseparable. He showed up often, chatted with her about the most ridiculous things, and she happily told him everything. Despite her dark style and demeanor, she was so sweet, polite, kind…

He opened the door and walked in without knocking—as he usually did—then shut it behind him with a quiet creak. He threw himself onto the bed on his back and stared at the ceiling, letting out a soft sigh.

"Listening to that depressing stuff again?"

He asked in a mock-gloomy tone, though a wry, amused smile played on his lips.