''~°.HIDE AND SEEK.°~'' | YEONGYU

THE FIGURE

The first thing he registered when he woke up was the darkness.

His room was cloaked in it, the only light a faint orange glow seeping through the cracks in the curtains.

He must've fallen asleep.

The last memory was his pillow damp beneath his cheek, his body curled so tight it felt like he was trying to disappear.

Now, his limbs felt heavy, his throat raw.

He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. The clock on the nightstand read 7:03 PM in flickering red digits.

The apartment was silent except for the faint hum of the cheap  refrigerator in the other room.

He pushed himself to his feet, feet dragging across the cold floorboards. The room felt like it was closing in on him, maybe some air would clear his head.

He tugged the curtains open slightly.

And froze.

Outside, under the dim light of the nearby streetlamp, stood a figure.

Dressed head-to-toe in black. A hood pulled up. A mask covering the lower half of their face.

But the eyes...those eyes...locked on him through the glass like voids.

They didn't blink. Didn't move.

Just watched.

They were looking straight at him.

His chest constricted violently. The sound that ripped out of his throat was more a gasp than a scream as he stumbled back, yanking the curtains closed so hard the fabric nearly tore.

No. No no no.

His legs staggered back, colliding with the edge of his bed.

They saw him.

Who was that?

Why were they there?

He stumbled toward the nightstand, hands trembling so hard he almost knocked his phone onto the floor. The screen lit up under his fingers, blurred by the tears welling in his eyes.

Without thinking, without hesitation, he pressed Yeonjun's contact.

The dial tone barely had time to ring before a voice answered.

"Beomgyu?"

The calmness in that voice nearly undid him.

"Someone—" His voice broke, cracking with panic. "There's someone outside. They—they were looking at me. Through my window. God, they were just standing there—"

"Gyu. Stop. Breathe."

"I can't—Yeonjun, they were right there. I don't know what to do—"

"Listen to me." The voice sharpened, cutting through his panic like a blade. "Lock the windows. Lock the doors. Stay away from the window. Are your curtains shut?"

"Yes—yes, I closed them—"

"Good. Stay where you are. I'm coming."

The line went dead.

Beomgyu's fingers trembled so badly he almost dropped the phone. He locked it and gripped it tight in his palm, backing further into the room until his back pressed against the far wall.

His breaths came fast and shallow, his chest burning. His eyes darted toward the curtains.

Had they moved?

He didn't dare check.

"Why? Why are they here? Is it the police? A classmate? Someone who thinks I—"