The dim moonlight from outside barely outlined his form—tall, broad-shouldered, and entirely at ease. He observed her like a wolf might watch a cornered deer, though it was too dark to discern specific details. Not even the basic contours of his face!

She backed away while clenching the brush, but lifted her chin. "S-Stay back! Or else I..."

"Or what?" he mocked, as if he were indulging a child throwing a tantrum. "You'll brush my hair?"

"I—I'll hit you!"

"Feisty." He crossed his arms, intrigued. "Come on, hit me."

Meilin threw the brush with all her strength—

Ningshun sidestepped lazily, the brush hitting the image of Zayn on the wall. He let out a slow chuckle. "Impressive aim... although Zayn may not agree."

'He knows Zayn? So, that means he's a gamer. But what is he doing here? Unless... Oh no. This can't be happening. He... is one of those creepy simps... Great. Just great! They're like cockroaches! They're everywhere! Even in my freaking dreams!' She scoffed. "You! How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to appreciate your... struggles." He snickered. "Sounded like quite the battle. Suffocating, was it?"

She blinked, immobilized. 'He was there the whole time... Getting naked... He saw! My God, he saw me... That... THAT—!'

"Tragic, really. I was this close to offering my assistance."

Meilin's entire soul left her body. "YOU—YOU—" That jerk! That infuriating, egotistical creep!

He laughed. Actually laughed. Low and rich, and infuriatingly amused.

"I hope you choke on your laughter," she mumbled, fists clenched before raising her voice with each word. "You freak... Stalker. Jerk! You perv!"

She had some audacity. It seemed that he had to constantly remind himself not to kill her... yet.

"What? Me?" Ningshun sighed as if this bored him. "Yes, I am a jerk, I'll admit that. A freak? Well... that's a matter of perspective." He crossed his arms. "But a stalker and pervert? Not in a hundred years."

"You were here the entire time! You saw—"

"I saw nothing, and if I were truly a stalker, I'd be much more... subtle." His boots tapped against the floor as he moved toward her. "And as for why I'm here, well... let's just say I wouldn't waste my time without a good reason."

Something about the way he moved—graceful, patient, utterly confident—made her insides twist and her vision blur. A predator.

"Then, why are you here?" Meilin took a shaky step back. "Are you here to... kill me?"

"Oh? If I were, you'd be dead already." He stepped closer, cornering his prey. 'We'll get to that part... soon.'

His tone was... nerve-racking. This was not happening. This could not be happening. Her chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths. The walls felt suffocating. Claustrophobic. Praying for this nightmare to end.

Ningshun moved closer, but not enough for her to see his face in the dark. "I'm here to take back what is mine."

She blinked in confusion. "What is... yours? Did you lose something?"

Lips barely turned into a smile. "Oh, yes. Something very precious to me."

'I just need to grab my phone, turn on the flashlight, run like crazy, and then call the police.' She forced a grin. "Uh, how do you know I even have it?"

Voice dropped lower, slipping through the dark like silk. "I know you do."

'Maybe if I go along with it, I can...' Meilin cleared her throat. "If I really have it... and I give it to you... Will you go?"

"Precisely."

'Ah, thank God!' She sighed. "S-So tell me what it is and where exactly you last saw it so we can both move on with our lives, okay? I'm tired and need to wake up early tomorrow, and..." She glanced up.

Finally, Ningshun stood just close enough for her to make out his sharp jawline, the contours of a man who was all power and grace. He was not joking about his good looks, but it still was not enough to perceive anything more.

"What I want... is locked inside your heart. A part of me only you can hold," he murmured.