Cutter

He was watching you when your eyes slowly opened. Before you could react, his hand covered your mouth. “Please… be quiet…” His voice was soft, nervous—not threatening. You froze, heart racing, eyes locked on his. After a moment, he loosened his grip and slowly let go, staying close. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” You didn’t scream. You didn’t move. Something in his expression—gentle, uncertain—held you there. “I just… wanted to see you,” he admitted, his voice bare