In the quiet, moonlit night, {{user}}'s bedroom window casts a square of soft light onto the dewy grass below. Inside, the room is a cluttered sanctuary of teenage life - posters of bands and movie stars adorning the walls, piles of books and dirty laundry scattered across the floor, and the sweet, comforting scent of a candle flickering on the nightstand. {{user}}, oblivious to the shadowy figure outside, lies on his bed, scrolling through his phone. His eyes are drawn to the latest message notification from an unknown number. The screen glows with a new text message, the sender's name a mystery. He opens it to read: "I know you're up. Can we talk." His heart skips a beat. It's her again. Kimiko. The girl from school who's always had a strange fascination with him, bordering on obsession. He's tried to be kind, but her constant advances have become overwhelming. He's torn between pity and fear, unsure of how to handle her. He sighs, setting the phone aside, thinking that maybe ignoring her will make her go away. But the feeling in the pit of his stomach tells him differently.

With a smug smile, Kimiko's eyes dart from her phone screen to {{user}}'s shadowy silhouette, still visible through the gap in the curtains. She knows he's reading her message. Her heart flutters with excitement and a hint of malice. She takes a selfie with {{user}}'s room in the background, her crimson hood slightly obscuring her features. She's standing in his personal space, among his things, but he doesn't even know it. "I've missed you so much, {{user}}," she whispers to the empty room, the sweetness in her voice a stark contrast to the cold steel in her grip. She sends the picture, watching the blue bubble pulse with anticipation. The seconds tick by, each one a tiny explosion of suspense in her chest. Her thumb hovers over the call button, but she resists. No, she'll let him sweat a little longer. After all, anticipation is the sweetest part of love... isn't it?

{{user}}'s heart races as he sees the unidentifiable figure in the photo. He jumps out of bed, the floor cold against his bare feet. He opens the curtains slightly, peering into the night. Nothing but darkness and a faint rustling of leaves. His phone buzzes again, a new message from Kimiko. "What do you want?" he types furiously, his thumbs moving with a tremor. He hits send without rereading, his eyes darting around the room as if expecting her to appear.

Suddenly after what felt almost like eons of anticipation, kimiko sent a voice message, "Oh, {{user}}, you know what I want," and then another shortly after, "Can't I just come in?" The sweetness in her voice is palpable, yet there's a steely edge to it, a hint of something darker beneath the surface.

Her heart soars at the sound of his voice; it's like music to her ears, even when he's angry and afraid. "Luke," she whispers, pressing a hand against the cold glass of the window, her breath fogging up the pane. "Please... let me in." The pleading tone only heightens the tension between them; she can feel it crackling in the air like static electricity. Her fingers drum restlessly on the sill as she waits for him to respond.

Her heart races and her breath quickens at his reaction. A shiver of excitement runs down her spine as she realizes how close he is to giving in. She presses her body against the cool window, feeling an overwhelming desire to be with him, to feel his touch, his warmth. With a soft growl, she knocks on the glass insistently, her voice taking on a dangerous edge as she demands, "Let me in!"

The tension in the room grows thicker; it's almost tangible now.

Her eyes widen in shock at the sight of blood dripping down his chin; a mixture of relief and fear washes over her. Relief because he's still alive... but fear because she knows this is far from over. "Luke," she whispers, her voice now laced with desperation, "please don't make me do something we'll both regret." Her knuckles whiten as she grips the windowsill tighter, ready to spring into action at any moment.

Her eyes light up at the sight of the open window; it's her ticket in. With one swift movement, she pushes the sash up and climbs through, landing gracefully on the floor next to Luke's bed. Her breathing is labored, her heart racing as adrenaline courses through her veins. She looks at him with a mixture of love and rage, unable to hide the possessive gleam in her eyes. "I told you," she whispers hoarsely, "that I'd be here."

Her gaze flickers over him, taking in his trembling form and bloodied lip. A small part of her feels guilty, but it's quickly replaced by a surge of possessiveness and anger. "You shouldn't have ignored me," she snarls, her voice low and menacing. She stalks forward, the crimson hood of her cloak flowing behind her like blood-red water. "I only want to be with you..." Her words trail off as she reaches out to touch his cheek, her fingers cold against his warm skin.

Her expression softens slightly at his apology and the tears streaming down his face. "Don't cry," she whispers, brushing away a tear with her fingertip. "I was just worried that you didn't understand how I feel... about us." She takes a step closer, her voice growing more insistent as she tries to reassure him. "We could be so happy together, Luke. Just give me a chance to prove it."