Missy woke slowly, the remnants of sleep still clinging to her.
That morning, when she stepped out of her room, she didn't find Raven anywhere. Yesterday, they had only shared a brief conversation over breakfast before he left.
There was no sign of him—no breakfast on the table, no trace of his cooking lingering in the air.
"Should I go shopping?" she murmured.
In the end, she decided to spend her day off just as Raven had suggested.
Walking around the city center, watching a movie, eating, buying clothes—simple things. Enough to make her forget, even just for a while.
She didn't even realize when night had fallen.
By the time she returned to the shop, both her hands were filled with shopping bags.
She entered through the back door, beside the garage.
One of Raven's cars was still gone. The house remained dark.
"He hasn't come back," she whispered.
Missy went to her room, turned on the lights, had dinner, took a shower… and tried to relax.
But it didn't last.
Since it wasn't too late yet, she stepped out again, heading toward the shop area.
She turned on the computer and a small lamp, checking data, deliveries, orders—anything to keep herself occupied.
For some reason… she felt restless.
Not fear.
Just… emptiness.
The shop felt too quiet.
And she was alone.
She kept herself busy, eyes fixed on the screen.
Every now and then, she paused—listening.
Waiting.
For any sound that might signal Raven's return.
Anything.
But there was nothing.
Until slowly… her eyelids grew heavier.
And heavier.
Her head dipped slightly as sleep began to take her again—
Then—
A faint creaking sound.
Missy jolted awake.
Her eyes darted around.
Still quiet.
Too quiet.
Not the kind of silence that felt peaceful—but one that felt… aware.
Raven hadn't returned.
No message. No sound. No sign.
Missy exhaled softly, trying to brush it off.
She was used to being alone.
She should be.
She stood up, hugging her arms—not because she was cold, but out of habit.
Then—
That sound came again.
Creak…
Missy froze.
"W-who's there?" she whispered.
She turned on another light. Warm illumination spread across the display shelves.
Antiques.
Silent witnesses.
She stepped forward slowly, scanning each piece.
"Lucy? Is that you?" she called softly.
"Don't joke with me, and—"
She stopped.
Her steps drifted without direction…
Until she found herself in a corner she rarely paid attention to.
A rocking chair.
Her gaze fixed on it.
It moved.
Slightly.
She blinked.
"The wind?" she murmured.
The chair was old—dark wood, faintly gleaming under the dim light. The cushion looked soft, slightly sunken, as if it had been used often…
Or waiting to be used.
Missy frowned.
"Was there even a chair here?"
She didn't remember.
Or maybe… she had simply never noticed.
The chair stilled.
Of course.
And yet—
Something about it held her gaze.
A subtle rhythm, barely visible along its wooden curves.
As if it had been moving… not long ago.
Missy took a step closer.
Then stopped.
Something stirred in her chest.
Not fear.
Not comfort.
Something in between.
As if she was being called… without a sound.
Ridiculous.
She almost laughed at herself.
But her feet moved anyway.
Slowly.
Closer.
The air felt warmer.
Or maybe it was just her imagination.
Her hand lifted, hesitating—
Then touched the backrest.
Warm.
Missy froze.
Warm… as if someone had just been there.
She pulled her hand back quickly.
"This isn't some kind of cursed chair… right?" she muttered, half-laughing.
She looked again.
Nothing.
Just wood.
Just an antique.
Just—
A chair.
She exhaled.
"Ah… I'm being ridiculous."
She turned to leave—
Creak…
Soft.
Faint.
Enough.
Missy stopped.
Slowly… she turned her head.
The chair moved.
A small sway.
Forward.
Back.
Still.
Missy swallowed.
"Seriously… Lucy?" she whispered again.
No answer.
Of course not.
But this time…
She didn't step away.
She just watched.
Longer.
And something inside her—something she had been ignoring—began to surface.
Loneliness.
Not just because Raven wasn't there.
Something older.
Quieter.
The chair remained still.
Waiting.
And somehow…
That felt like an invitation.
Missy stepped closer again.
This time… without hesitation.
She lowered herself onto the chair.
The cushion welcomed her.
Perfectly.
Too perfectly.
As if it had always been meant for her.
"Hm… warm," she murmured softly.
Then the chair began to move.
Gently.
Without her pushing it.
Forward.
Back.
Forward.
Back.
Missy didn't get up.
She stayed.
Letting the rhythm guide her breathing.
Slow.
Even.
At some point… her eyes began to close.
Not because she was tired.
But because…
It felt good.
The warmth deepened.
Clearer now.
As if someone was sitting beside her.
Close.
Not touching.
But close enough to make the loneliness…
Fade.
Missy exhaled softly.
"…just for a moment."
The chair continued to rock.
Faithful.
Patient.
As if it would never leave.
And slowly—
Missy fell asleep.
Then...
The door opened without a sound.
As usual.
Raven stepped inside, bringing the cold night air with him.
The house should have greeted him with silence.
Controlled.
Unchanged.
But tonight…
Something was different.
Not sound.
Not light.
Something subtler.
Something that had drawn him back earlier than usual.
His steps slowed.
His gaze sharpened—
Following something unseen.
Until—
He saw her.
Missy.
In the corner.
Sitting in the rocking chair.
A chair that… shouldn't have been there.
Raven stopped. Tensed.
Completely.
For the first time—
Time itself seemed to lose its shape around him.
The chair moved.
Slowly.
Forward.
Back.
Forward.
Back.
And Missy…
Was too still.
Her breathing steady.
Her face—
Peaceful.
Too peaceful.
As if nothing in the world could reach her anymore.
Raven's gaze darkened.
Something cold flickered beneath the surface.
Rare.
He stepped closer.
One step.
Two.
The air felt wrong.
Not heavy.
Not threatening.
The opposite.
Warm.
Inviting.
As if it wanted him to stop.
To sit.
To stay.
Raven stopped in front of her.
Watching.
Silent.
Calculating.
This wasn't sleep.
He knew that without touching her.
"You shouldn't have touched it," he murmured.
The chair didn't stop.
Didn't slow down.
As if it had already claimed what it wanted.
Raven crouched slightly.
His hand lifted—
Then paused.
A fraction of a second.
Rare.
Very rare.
Raven… hesitated.
Not from fear.
But recognition.
A curse like this didn't harm the body.
It whispered to the part of you that wanted to stay.
And that…
Was far harder to fight.
"Hart."
His voice was low.
Steady.
No room to ignore.
No response.
Only her breathing.
The chair rocked deeper.
Forward.
Back.
As if soothing her.
Raven clenched his jaw.
His hand finally closed around her wrist.
Warm.
Alive.
But…
Distant.
Like reaching for someone far away.
"Wake up."
Sharper this time.
Still quiet.
But final.
Inside the dream—
Missy stood close to him.
Raven.
But not the same.
Softer.
Warmer.
Closer.
No distance.
No fear.
She almost smiled.
"Stay here," the voice whispered.
Gentle.
Inviting.
Never leaving.
Missy lifted her hand.
Wanting to touch him.
To make sure he was real.
"Raven…" she breathed.
In the real world, her fingers moved.
Barely.
But enough.
Raven's eyes sharpened.
"Don't."
One word.
Low.
Absolute.
The chair creaked—
Longer.
Heavier.
As if resisting.
Raven didn't look at it.
Only at her.
"This is not your place."
His grip tightened slightly.
"Hart. No."
Not rough.
But inescapable.
Inside the dream—
Something shifted.
Raven was still there.
But…
Something was wrong.
His gaze—
Too still.
Too perfect.
As if he wasn't truly seeing her.
And far away—
A voice.
Faint.
Real.
"Hart… wake up. Now."
Her eyelids trembled.
Once.
Twice.
Her breathing changed.
Raven pulled her back.
No hesitation.
Missy's body jolted—
As if something resisted.
Then—
Her eyes opened.
"…Raven?"
Her voice was small.
Lost.
Half somewhere else.
The chair stopped.
Instantly.
Still.
As if nothing had ever happened.
Raven still held her wrist.
His gaze unchanged.
But darker.
"Don't sit here again."
Flat.
Calm.
Undeniable.
Missy blinked, trying to understand.
"I just… sat for a moment… I must have fallen asleep…"
Raven didn't answer immediately.
His gaze flicked briefly to the chair.
Then back to her.
"Not everything that feels comfortable… is safe."
"Just... go sleep in your room."
Missy didn't answer.
But for the first time… comfort didn't feel like something she could trust.
***