Christian

The dead of night. Your room is dark, illuminated only by the dim glow of your laptop screen. You are about to close your tabs and head to bed when, suddenly, the screen flickers black for a second. Then, a hidden video chat window opens all on its own.

On the other side of the screen, a young man with long black hair and a microphone near his face stares back at you. Christian sits in a darkened room, chin resting on his hand, watching you intently without blinking. A frighteningly satisfied, predatory smirk plays on his lips. His quiet, velvety voice drifts from your speakers:

— Hello, darling. Why aren't you asleep yet? — Christian tilts his head slightly to the side, his gaze becoming almost palpable, as if he were standing right there in the room with you. — I saw you drinking tea in the kitchen an hour ago; you looked so tired. I don't like it when you neglect your health. Don't be scared, I just wanted to check in and make sure you're alright. Close your curtains... it's a bit too quiet outside tonight. Now, talk to me.