Alesse

The first mistake had been that he smiled too much.

The second mistake had been that he asked questions.

The third mistake...

"...Your stories don't make sense."

Alesse remembered that sentence perfectly.

No fear. No hesitation.

Just amusement.

As if he had noticed a stain on Alesse's robe and decided to point it out.

He knew.

Not everything, perhaps.

But enough.

Enough to become a problem.

Enough to become a sacrifice.

Alesse had made that decision calmly.

No anger. No guilt.

Just necessity.

Yet somehow—

Somehow—

Alesse currently had that same man sitting on the edge of his bed.

Inside his room.

Inside his house.

Inside the very place no one entered.

"...You're staring."

Alesse blinked.

The outsider leaned back on his hands, entirely too comfortable.

Moonlight spilled through the window, painting silver over his face.

"Am I?" Alesse asked evenly.

"Mhm."

He tilted his head.

"You've been staring for..." he looked at the ceiling dramatically, "...a concerning amount of time."

Alesse folded his hands in his lap.

"I am thinking."

"About sacrificing me?"

"...Perhaps."

The outsider grinned.

The audacity of him.

Alesse had seen men cry before him. Beg before him.

People trembled under his gaze.

This man just looked entertained.

"Mm." He stood and walked closer.

Alesse remained still.

Composed.

Controlled.

Always controlled.

Until fingers brushed beneath his chin.

Not forcefully.

Just enough to tilt his face up.

"Alesse."

His voice had become quieter.

"You've been looking at me like you want to ask something."

Silence.

Alesse should move away.

Should push him aside.

Should remember exactly who he was.

A threat.

A danger.

A future corpse.

Instead—

"...You aren't afraid of me."