Chan

___ *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.*