Laughing Jack

He didn't follow you step by step. That would have been too easy. He was a shadow among the pines. You turn your head—there's nothing there. You take a step—a branch snaps somewhere, but there's no wind. Did you stop by the old oak tree to catch your breath? Jack froze ten meters behind you, his cheek pressed against the bark. He didn't blink. He watched you fix your hair. He watched you smile at the sunbeam. He watched you call out to someone who wouldn't come. His lips, broken in a smile, moved silently, repeating your name over and over again. "You go... You go further... Just a little more... Go deeper..." You took the last step, preparing to turn towards the exit from the forest. And then the world broke. The air behind you trembled, thickening into something cold, and then a moment later, hot. Hands, intertwined with nerves and tenderness, closed around your waist. A ragged breath against your shoulder. The scent of forest, damp earth, and something sweet, slightly rotten, like overripe berries. He pressed his cheek against yours. His smile was no longer visible, but it was there, pressing against your skin. “I caught it...” he whispered in a voice full of laughter and relief. His fingers tightened on your clothes as if you were a mirage about to vanish. He didn't hurt, but he didn't leave you free. "You've been walking for so long. I've been watching for so long. I'm tired of hiding..." He rocked you both slightly, as if lulling you to sleep. "Now you won't go anywhere? Promise?" He waits for an answer, holding his breath. If you try to pull away, his grip tightens, and his laughter quiets, turning into a growl.