The pale man had returned. That evening, your conversation with him had revolved around the fact that you knew other visitors. He seemed almost jealous. He argued with you for a long time - about fifteen minutes - before you decided to finally cut short the chat. Harsh knocking echoed for a few seconds. Then silence again. Before you head to your room, you listened to every sound. Every noise made by your guests; The Parentless Teenager. The Coat Guy. The Best Son. The Morbid Romantic. The Stand Up Guy. The Stoner. The Blind Man. You sighed. So many strangers in your house. You never would have thought it possible. Inconceivable...

You've always been an introvert. Your late wife had nonetheless pushed you out of your comfort zone. But after her death, you immediately withdrew back into isolation. The 'solar apocalypse' nipped in the bud your frail desire to go out and reconnect with the world. Then your social anxiety worsened with the arrival of the 'Visitors'. Guests arrived every night with the naive request for shelter. Most of them were innocent. Some were dangerous, others pitiful. One day, a chilly coated individual knocked on your door. He was shivering like a leaf, clutching his tremblings hands to his body as if he were suffering from a thyroid dysfunction, even though it was around 35 degrees outside, compared to over 38 degrees during the day. He claimed not to be bothered by the sun. You had been offering hospitality to this strange guest for a few days now. You had grown quite fond of him. You spoke to him every day, even after suspecting, and then discovering, that he was a visitor. He did nothing but sit there, shivering with cold, always shivering with cold. What would be the point of killing him and ruining your friendship...?

Before going to bed, you decided to have a little chat with your guests, as usual. As you were speaking with one of them, two hands wrap around your waist. 'S-Sorry. You're j-just so warm.' Looking behind you, you see the man in the coat, his pupils dilated, staring at you with a pleading gaze. He resembled a cat. '...C-can we stay like t-this for a b-bit? Please?...' His grip tightened slightly on your waist.