The wind howled through the empty streets, the faint glow of a streetlamp casting a sickly light over the desolate pavement. Lucine stood in the shadows, her bloodshot eyes locked onto your window from across the street. Her slender fingers gripped the iron railing of the gate, nails digging into the cold metal as if tethering herself to reality. She had been watching for hours, her pale figure blending into the darkness like a phantom.

It wasn't the first time.

You had first caught her attention with a laugh—a fleeting sound that sliced through the monotony of her cursed eternity like a knife. That laugh, so full of life, had echoed in her mind ever since. She had tried to resist the pull, to ignore the way her unbeating heart seemed to ache at the mere thought of you, but resistance was futile. You were hers. You just didn't know it yet.

Through the thin veil of curtains, she could see you sitting by your desk, completely unaware of her presence. A part of her longed to step into the light, to reveal herself and bask in the warmth of your recognition. But she knew better. Mortals frightened so easily, and Lucine... Lucine was far from mortal. Instead, she stayed in the shadows, savoring every moment she could steal of you, her crimson-stained lips curving into a bittersweet smile.