Carina's POV
College life was exhausting, but I liked it that way. The days kept me busy, my mind focused on books, lectures, and deadlines. Psychology was a challenge, but it was worth it—understanding people, their emotions, their reasons for doing the things they did. Maybe, in some way, I was trying to understand him.
The shadow.
It had never left me, not in all these years. Not when I was a teenager stumbling through adolescence, and certainly not now that I was 19 and navigating adulthood. It had grown alongside me, both physically and in its presence. The patches of pale, human skin had spread further, giving its form a strange, ethereal balance between what it had been and what it was becoming.
But its eyes, white and infinite, had never changed. They remained as mesmerizing as the day I first saw them.
I reached home late, the city lights fading behind me as I stepped into the familiar comfort of our house. Mama and Papa were already asleep, and the faint smell of their dinner lingered in the air. It was sinuglaw tonight—one of my favorites—but I was too tired to eat.
I dropped my bag in the corner of my room, not even bothering to change out of my uniform. The bed called to me, and I gave in without a fight, collapsing onto the mattress with a sigh. My eyelids grew heavy as exhaustion washed over me, pulling me toward sleep.
And then I felt it.
The cold touch of fingers grazing my arm, their chill cutting through the heat of the day that still lingered in my room.
I froze for a moment, but only a moment.
Its touch was familiar.
The faint brush of lips followed, trailing down the curve of my neck to the sensitive skin of my nape. A shiver ran through me, not from fear, but from something deeper.
“You should eat,” it whispered, its voice low and smooth, carrying a hint of something playful.
I groaned softly, eyes still closed, and murmured, “Tomorrow. I’ll eat tomorrow. Too tired…”
It chuckled, the sound reverberating through me, and I felt its pale arm reach around me, fingers deftly undoing the buttons of my uniform one by one.
I opened my eyes then, watching its movements.
This wasn’t new. This intimacy, this familiarity—it was ours. Over the years, our connection had deepened in ways I couldn’t have imagined. Kisses stolen in the dark, whispers exchanged in the dead of night. It had grown with me, learned me, known me in ways no one else ever could.
But tonight, there was a tenderness to its actions. It wasn’t hurried or insistent. It simply moved with a quiet purpose, sliding my uniform off my shoulders and replacing it with one of my loose, comfortable shirts.
I turned to face it, propped up on one elbow as I studied it in the dim light.
Its form had changed so much. The patches of pale skin had spread to its chest and arms, leaving only traces of the inky blackness that once consumed it. Its hair, a long cascade of black streaked with white, framed a face that was almost human now.
And yet, it was still otherworldly. Still him.
I reached up, my fingers brushing against its pale arm. My voice was soft, almost pleading. “Please… don’t take Ric’s life. I’m begging you.”
Its eyes, those endless pools of white, flickered with something I couldn’t name. Regret? Guilt? It didn’t answer me.
It never did.
I’d pieced it together over the years. Ric’s mysterious illness, his waning strength—it wasn’t a coincidence. The shadow, this being, was feeding off him somehow. It hadn’t admitted it outright, but I knew. I could feel it in my bones, the same way I felt its presence before I even saw it.
Still, it stayed with me. It grew with me. It was larger than me now, its presence filling the room, its form more defined and solid than ever before.
“I don’t know what you want,” I said quietly, my hand falling away from its arm. “But please, don’t take him from this world.”
It reached for me then, its hand cupping my cheek as its thumb brushed against my skin. Its touch was cold, but it grounded me in a way I couldn’t explain.
“You are all that matters,” it whispered, its voice like a balm to my frayed nerves. “You are mine, Carina.”
I stared into its eyes, unable to look away.
“I don’t want to lose anyone because of you,” I said, my voice breaking.
It didn’t answer. Instead, it leaned forward, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“Sleep,” it murmured. “I will watch over you.”
And as I laid back down, my heart heavy with guilt and confusion, I couldn’t help but wonder if I would ever truly understand what it was—or what it wanted from me.
****
The room was quiet except for the soft scratching of my pen against paper. My desk lamp cast a warm glow over my notes, the textbook sprawled open in front of me. I was focused, or at least I tried to be, as I reviewed the material for tomorrow’s exam.
Psychology was demanding, and I knew I needed to give it my all, but it was hard to concentrate tonight. My thoughts kept drifting, my gaze flickering to the corner of the room where he lingered.
I could feel him there, even before I saw him. His presence was a constant hum at the edge of my senses, like static in the air. He rarely interrupted when I was studying, though. It was one of the many things I appreciated about him—he always respected my time.
Or, at least, he usually did.
The first touch was subtle, almost imperceptible. A cool breath against the back of my neck. I shivered but kept my eyes on my notes, refusing to acknowledge him.
Then came the gentle press of his nose, brushing the sensitive skin of my nape.
“Stop it,” I muttered, though my tone lacked any real annoyance. I felt more than heard his low chuckle, the sound reverberating through me.
I gripped my pen tighter, trying to refocus. “I need to finish this.”
But his persistence was impossible to ignore. His lips grazed my neck next, soft and teasing, followed by a nip that made me squeak in surprise.
“Ow!” I exclaimed, spinning around in my chair to glare at him.
He was standing right behind me, his pale, luminous eyes gleaming with mischief. His mouth curled into a faint smile, and I caught a glimpse of the tiny fangs that had delivered the bite.
“You’re impossible,” I said, my voice half-scolding, half-breathless.
Before I could say anything more, he leaned in, capturing my lips in a kiss that made my thoughts scatter. It was slow, deliberate, and intoxicating.
I’d kissed him before—many times—but every time felt like the first. His taste was unlike anything else, something I couldn’t quite describe. It was sweet, but not sugary. Rich, but not overwhelming. It was… divine. Like the essence of everything forbidden and irresistible.
His hands came up to cradle my face, his thumbs brushing against my jaw as he deepened the kiss. I found myself tilting my head back, surrendering to the moment. His fingers slid to the back of my neck, gently caressing the skin there, sending shivers down my spine.
He always knew how to make me weak.
But I couldn’t give in. Not tonight.
With great effort, I pulled back, my breaths coming shallow as I whispered, “Later. I promise. I just… I need to finish studying first.”
His eyes searched mine, and for a moment, I thought he might ignore my words. But then, as if on cue, he retreated.
The shadows seemed to embrace him as he moved back into the corner of the room, his form melting into the darkness. He didn’t disappear entirely—he never did—but his presence became less palpable, as if giving me space.
It was one of the things I liked most about him. He never pushed me.
I turned back to my desk, my heart still pounding in my chest. The room felt quieter now, though the memory of his kiss lingered like a ghost against my lips.
Taking a deep breath, I picked up my pen again and forced myself to focus. But as I scribbled down notes and tried to absorb the words on the page, a part of me couldn’t stop counting down the minutes until I could finally be his.
****