Mysterious

The night was dim; I pulled down the curtains, shutting out the streetlights and faint moonlight outside, leaving only a bedside lamp glowing in the bedroom.

I returned to the bedside, sat down, and looked down at Quentin, who was peacefully asleep. I sighed and then chuckled. "I wonder if it hurts."

I touched Quentin's neck. This dramatic person actually used broken glass shards to stab into his neck.

The tattered book from earlier, like a door of memories, sealed memories deep in my heart, suddenly lifted that barrier and surged unbridledly.

"I..."

Quentin grasped my hand in his sleep, tightly, as if afraid that I would run away.

"I can't run. Wherever I am, you can find me."

I smiled gently, lifted the blanket, lay down on the bed, and then placed my head on Quentin's shoulder. Smelling the fragrance of the person beside me, I slowly entered dreamland.

The next day, when Quentin opened his eyes, he saw me lying beside him, looking at him.

Quentin blinked slightly, and after