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1 Under the Moonlight
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2025-07-15 20:58:17Night feels heavier in the forest. There’s something in the air, in the crunch of leaves beneath my feet, in the wind whistling through the trees, that makes my skin prickle. I know I shouldn’t be here. But the solitude of my room feels more suffocating than the fear of losing myself in this place.
My name is Amelia. I’m twenty years old, and for as long as I can remember, this town has been a prison disguised as a home. Everyone knows everyone; secrets are a luxury no one can afford. Or at least that’s what I used to think—until I learned that not everything is as it seems.
The first time I saw him was three nights ago. I was walking along this same path, lost in my thoughts, when I felt it: a presence—heavy, dark—that made me stop in my tracks. At first, I thought it might be an animal, maybe a wolf. But then I saw him. His eyes burned like embers in the gloom, and though he was cloaked in shadow, I could feel the power radiating from him.
He didn’t speak, didn’t move. He just watched me. And for some reason, instead of running, I stood there, transfixed. After what felt like hours, he vanished among the trees, leaving behind a sensation I haven’t been able to shake since.
Tonight, I return to the forest, driven by the foolish hope of seeing him again. I don’t know what compels me—curiosity, adrenaline, or something darker that I don’t want to name. The full moon bathes everything in silver light, making the landscape seem unreal.
And then, I feel it again.
My heart races as the figure emerges from between the trees. It’s him. His presence is overwhelming, as if the air thickens around him. This time, he doesn’t stay hidden. He steps toward me, and as he draws nearer, the details of his face come into focus. He’s beautiful in a way that almost hurts: a strong jaw, dark hair falling in messy strands over his brow, and those eyes… God, those eyes.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he says, his voice a low growl, heavy with warning.
“And yet, here I am,” I reply, trying to sound braver than I feel.
A spark of something—amusement? irritation?—flickers in his gaze. He takes another step, and now he’s so close I can feel the heat from his body, a sharp contrast to the cold night.
“Do you have any idea how much danger you’re in?” His tone is a whisper, but something in it makes me shiver.
“No. And I don’t care.”
He frowns, and for a moment, it seems as if he’s about to say something more. But he stops. Instead, he steps back, as if wrestling with something unseen.
“Go home, human. You won’t see me again.”
His words tighten something in my chest. There’s a finality in them that hurts more than it should.
“Why? Who are you?”
He doesn’t answer. He turns and starts walking into the forest. But just before the trees swallow him, he pauses and glances back at me.
“I’m a problem you don’t need.”
And then he’s gone.
I stand there, frozen, his words echoing through my mind. I don’t know who he is or why he affects me like this, but something deep inside tells me this isn’t over. I can’t explain how I know—but I’m certain this won’t be the last time our paths cross.
When I finally force myself to go back home, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve crossed some invisible threshold—that something inside me has changed. What I don’t know is that I’ve changed something inside him too.
And neither of us is ready to face what that means.
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