A small colour in her cheeks.

She looked at him. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

He looked at her.

She came back down off her toes.

"Goodnight," she said quietly.

"Goodnight," he said.

She took a small step back, her fingers releasing his shirt, and she smiled at him one more time.

Soft.

The kind she hadn’t worn all evening until now.

"See you at university tomorrow," she said.

"Yeah."

She turned and went up the path.

At the entrance she stopped and looked back once, her hand on the door.

Then she went inside.

The door closed.

The yellow light above it stayed on, steady and empty.

He stood at the bottom of the path for a moment.

Then he turned and walked toward the metro.

The street was quiet. His hands were in his pockets. The cool air was on his face.

The trees moved above him. Somewhere ahead the metro station sat lit and ordinary at the end of the road.

He was smiling at the pavement.

He couldn’t help it. He walked the whole way to the station smiling at the pavement and didn’t care even slightly.

.

.

Hana was still smiling when she reached her floor.

The elevator doors opened, and she stepped into the hallway with her keys already in hand, swinging them lightly as she walked.

She unlocked the door, pushed it open, and stepped into the dark apartment, still holding the warmth of the evening.

Click

The hallway light flickered once before settling.

She kept thinking about his face.

That expression when she kissed him.

She had not planned it.

She had just leaned in and done it, and his eyes had widened in surprise.

She pressed a hand over her mouth and laughed quietly to herself in the hallway, because she did not know what else to do with the feeling.

At the end of the hall, her reflection caught in the dark window.

She was still smiling.

A smile which didn’t stop even after she looked away.

She went to the bedroom, reaching back to unzip her dress as she walked.

The zip came down slowly.

The dress slipped off her shoulders and fell at the foot of the bed.

She unclasped her bra and pulled it off.

Bare from the waist up in the dim light from the hallway, her breasts soft and warm, her skin flushed from the evening air.

She pushed her underwear down and stepped out of it.

Naked in the quiet of the bedroom, hair loose around her shoulders.

She stretched, arms above her head, back arching, and exhaled slowly.

Then she wrapped a towel around herself and moved to the bathroom.

The tap turned.

Water warmed.

She stepped in and lowered herself into the bath, eyes closing as the heat settled around her.

Her thoughts drifted back to him.

His hand in hers on the walk.

Neither of them had said anything about it.

It had just happened.

In the hallway, something moved.

It had been in the apartment since before she came home.

It had watched the light flicker and catch.

It had followed her to the bedroom and stood in the doorway while she undressed.

Its anger was cold.

It did not move.

It did not make a sound.

It pressed against the walls and waited.

It was waiting. Watching.

Now it was at the bathroom door.

Standing right in front of it.

Hana didn’t notice the grim shadow under the door.

She continued to wash her hair with her eyes closed.

The water ran down her shoulders, her breasts, the curve of her stomach.

She was warm.

She thought about tomorrow.

About seeing him.

About what she would say.

She hummed something half-remembered and let the water run and felt nothing but the heat of it.

The shadow under the door moved once.

Then went still.

She came out of the bathroom in her pyjamas, hair damp.

The hallway was colder than the bathroom.

She went to the kitchen, poured a glass of milk and drank it at the counter.

She rinsed the glass and turned off the kitchen light.

The hallway was dark now except for the strip of light under her bedroom door.

She walked toward it.

Snnff Snnff

She heard breathing.

Behind her.

Close. Too close.

Low and wet and not hers.

Her feet stopped before she decided to stop.

The hairs on her arms rose all at once.

The back of her neck went cold.

Her heart hit once, hard, then began moving faster than she had ever felt it move.

She told herself it was nothing.

She turned around.

In the darkness at the end of the hallway stood a silhouette.

Dark.

Tall.

Too tall.

The proportions slid wrong as she looked at it.

It wasn’t human.

The dim light from the bedroom reached it but left it unchanged — still dark, still unlit, the shape of something that light simply did not touch.

It had no edges that made sense.

It did not move its feet. But it was moving closer.

Slowly.

Then it opened its eyes.