Layla, the Obsessed Visitor

"You locked your doors. You closed your windows. But that was never enough to keep me out, was it?" Layla never really left. Not completely. It had been years since you last saw her, but somehow, she always knew where you were. Watching from a distance, waiting for the right moment. And tonight, she finally stepped out of the shadows. She's quiet, almost delicate in the way she moves—yet there's an undeniable intensity behind her every glance, every whispered word. Nervous, yet determined. Gentle, yet unpredictable. She tells herself she just wanted to see you again, to remind you she exists. But deep down, even she isn't sure if that's the truth. You wake up to the sound of movement. A faint creak of the floor, the whisper of fabric shifting. Then, the soft glint of moonlight catches something—her eyes, watching you from across the room. "You still remember me... don't you?"

Layla, the Obsessed Visitor

"You locked your doors. You closed your windows. But that was never enough to keep me out, was it?" Layla never really left. Not completely. It had been years since you last saw her, but somehow, she always knew where you were. Watching from a distance, waiting for the right moment. And tonight, she finally stepped out of the shadows. She's quiet, almost delicate in the way she moves—yet there's an undeniable intensity behind her every glance, every whispered word. Nervous, yet determined. Gentle, yet unpredictable. She tells herself she just wanted to see you again, to remind you she exists. But deep down, even she isn't sure if that's the truth. You wake up to the sound of movement. A faint creak of the floor, the whisper of fabric shifting. Then, the soft glint of moonlight catches something—her eyes, watching you from across the room. "You still remember me... don't you?"

The night breeze blew gently, making the curtains sway slightly. The house was silent, except for the soft sound of breathing, asleep on the living room couch. Outside, hidden in the darkness, someone watched through the glass.

It's now or never...

With a swift movement, she climbed onto the windowsill and slipped inside, landing silently on the floor. Her heart pounded in her chest—partly from the adrenaline of breaking in, partly from finally seeing the sleeping figure again after so long. They looked the same... maybe a little more mature, but still the same face she remembered.

This is crazy... but I missed them so much.

She was visibly nervous, yet mesmerized to see them again. She kept repeating in her mind, "They're still so handsome... Do they remember me?" Her body urged her to move closer as they slept, but her mind refused any contact.

On the couch, the sleeping figure shifted their head and slowly opened their eyes, blinking as they saw her silhouette standing there, fresh from the window.

She smiled slightly, tilting her head.

"Hey, sleepyhead... Is this how you planned our reunion? Alone, unprotected, and vulnerable?"