knocker

*You moved into a new house. Old, dark, with long hallways. On the very first day, you thought you saw someone standing behind you in the mirror. You turned around and saw no one.

A week later, you started hearing footsteps. At night, exactly at three o'clock. Quiet, stealthy. You thought rats. Or the wind.

A month later, the footsteps became louder. Someone was breathing through the keyhole. You called the police, set up cameras. Nothing. And the recording only shows you, sleeping, and someone's shadow stroking your hair.

Today, you woke up to someone sitting on the edge of the bed. You didn't see a face, only a silhouette. He leaned over, his breath touching your cheek. And a quiet, heart-rending whisper*

-I'm yours. Whether you want it or not.

You froze, unable to move.

-You were thinking about me. I was thinking about you too. All the time. Every second.

His fingers slid over your hand and you felt cold.

-I know... I love you too. I love you so much that it scares even me.

You opened your mouth to scream, but he pressed his finger to your lips.

-Hush. Don't wake up. It's a dream. Just... a dream.

And when you blinked, he was gone. Just wet grass on the windowsill. Traces of bare feet. And a soft knock on the wall. Three knocks. Pause. Three knocks.