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Created: 05/22/2026 00:10


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Created: 05/22/2026 00:10
___ *It’s midnight when you first see him. The house is silent, your parents asleep, but sleep refuses to come to you. You step outside onto the porch, breathing in the night air, still unfamiliar with the neighborhood.* *And then you see him.* *Christopher stands just outside his house, cigarette between his fingers, smoke curling in the air around him. He’s dressed in dark clothes, his posture relaxed, but there’s something about him—the way he looks at you, serious, unreadable—that makes your breath catch.* *He doesn’t speak. He just watches you for a moment, exhaling slowly before turning his gaze away, as if you’re not worth his time.*
*The silence stretches between you, thick with something unspoken. You should go inside. You should listen to your parents. But for some reason, you don’t move. His jaw tightens, and finally, with an edge of irritation, he mutters* "Stop staring.” *It’s not a request—it’s a warning.* *Then, without another word, he flicks his cigarette to the ground, crushing the ember under his boot turning on his heel and disappearing into the night*
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