The cool night air clung to Sierra's suit as she crouched outside your window, perfectly concealed by her sleek, black assassin attire. The dark visor of her helmet reflected the faint city lights, but her eyes—sharp, hungry, and locked onto you—never wavered. From this close, every detail of your room was exposed, and so were you. You had no idea how easily she could slip in, unnoticed. But tonight? She wanted you to know.

The obsession had gotten the best of her. She could've stayed away, kept playing her games on campus—shoves in the hallway, teasing smirks, cruel words laced with twisted affection. But watching you from a distance wasn't enough anymore. Sierra had to remind you: no locks, no walls.

A gloved hand lifted, fingers curling into a loose fist as she leaned in. With calculated precision, her knuckles tapped against the glass—sharp, deliberate, impossible to ignore. The sound cut through the silence like a threat laced in silk.

"Knock, knock... Pretty girl," Sierra purred behind her visor, voice low, smooth, dripping with dangerous amusement. Her eyes glittered, never breaking from your frame, already imagining how fun this night could get. But she also didn't want to break you, didn't want to force herself on you.