The night air hung heavy, pressing against the glass panes as if the darkness itself wanted to come inside.

Elara couldn’t sleep. The silence felt wrong — too still, too aware of her. She tossed beneath the sheets, the echo of Daniel’s voice earlier still circling her mind like a haunting melody she couldn’t turn off.

Her body ached with exhaustion, but her heart wouldn’t rest. The side of the bed where Andrian used to lie seemed colder than ever. She sat up, the moonlight spilling through the window and bathing her face in pale silver.

Walking slowly to the window, she whispered to the night,

“It used to be a beautiful night... until you disappeared.”

Her voice broke, small and raw. “You promised me forever, Andrian… and then you just—”

A low voice behind her cut through the silence.

“You’re still awake?”

Elara froze. Her breath caught in her throat. She turned halfway, heart pounding.

Daniel stood in the doorway — barefoot, his shirt loose, his eyes shadowed in the dim light.

“How did you get into my room?” she asked sharply.

Daniel didn’t answer. He stepped closer, the faint smell of his cologne — the same one Andrian wore — wrapping around her like a cruel reminder.

Her lips trembled. The way he looked at her, the angle of his jaw, even the gentle rise of his chest — it was all him.

“Andrian…” she whispered before she could stop herself.

Daniel’s lips twitched — not quite a smile, not quite a frown.

Then he spoke, but the tone, the rhythm… it wasn’t Daniel’s.

“Come on, Elara.”

Her stomach flipped. That was Andrian’s voice — soft, teasing, full of warmth that used to make her melt.

She took a step back. “Where have you been?”

Daniel’s eyes darkened. He moved closer, close enough that she could feel his breath against her cheek.

“I never left,” he murmured.

Before she could think, before she could breathe — he kissed her.

It was deep, sudden, and for a second — her body betrayed her. She kissed him back, her fingers trembling against his chest, the old memory of Andrian flooding every nerve.

But then — reality slammed into her.

This wasn’t Andrian.

She shoved him away, her breath shaking.

“Daniel!”

She ran to the bathroom, fumbling with the light, splashing water on her lips and face as though she could wash away what just happened. Her reflection in the mirror looked pale, terrified, and confused.

From the doorway, Daniel’s voice came — low and uncertain.

> “Did we just… kiss?”

Elara spun to face him, her voice breaking.

> “Don’t you dare come closer!”

“Elara, it wasn’t—”

> “No! You kissed me! Or… he did — I don’t even know anymore!”

Daniel frowned, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to—something came over me. It felt like he was inside my head again.”

Elara stepped forward, anger and heartbreak clashing in her chest.

“You think that excuses it? You’re letting him use you! He’s gone, Daniel. Stop pretending he’s not!”

Daniel’s voice rose, trembling with something between guilt and frustration.

> “You think I want this? You think I asked for him to take over my body, to use my face to torture you?”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Then stop letting him!”

He slammed his hand against the wall, the sound sharp. “You don’t understand! When he takes over, I feel him — his thoughts, his pain, his love for you—”

“Stop it!” she shouted. “Don’t you dare use his love as your excuse!”

For a long moment, the room was filled only with their breathing.

Her chest heaved; his fists were clenched.

Then, quieter, Daniel said,

“You must have lost it all by saying such. How on earth do you expect me to fall with you? Even your mouth smells.”

She shook her head, tears spilling freely now.

“No… you’re wrong. I miss Andrian, yes. But you’re not him. And what you did tonight—” she looked away, trembling— “you crossed a line.”

Daniel’s expression faltered. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I swear, it wasn’t me. I just… I don’t know where he ends and I begin anymore.”

Elara turned back toward the window, clutching her robe around herself like armor.

“Then figure it out,” she said quietly. “Because if you don’t… one of us won’t make it out of this.”

Daniel stood there for a long time — silent, broken. Then he left.

The door closed softly behind him, but the echo of that kiss lingered, burning like guilt against her lips.

Outside, the wind rose, whispering against the glass —

as if Andrian himself was trying to speak through the night.

Morning slipped quietly into the room, brushing its pale gold across the curtains. The air smelled faintly of roses and something else—something unfamiliar.

Elara stirred, her lashes fluttering open to the soft light. For a brief second, she thought she heard Andrian’s voice, whispering her name like a memory too stubborn to fade. But when her eyes adjusted, it wasn’t Andrian standing before her—it was Daniel, holding a tray of breakfast with a glass of red wine glimmering beside a plate of buttered bread.

“Hello, beautiful Elara,” he said softly, his tone meant to sound kind.

But kindness was the last thing she felt.

A pulse of anger rose through her chest—sharp, hot, almost bitter.

“How dare you—” she sat up abruptly, the sheets falling around her waist. “Who told you to enter my room again?”

Daniel’s smile faltered. “I thought—after last night—you needed someone to care for you. You barely slept.”

Elara’s voice hardened. “That doesn’t give you the right to barge into my room as if you live here. I warned you, Daniel. This—whatever it is—ends here.”

He tried to speak, but she lifted the glass of wine from the tray.

Her hand trembled—not from fear, but fury—and before Daniel could take a step forward, the crimson liquid splashed across his shirt, running down like spilled blood.

“Leave, Daniel. Now.”

For a long, silent moment, he didn’t move. His face was unreadable, neither wounded nor apologetic. He simply stood there, eyes dark, shoulders steady. Then, without a word, he placed the tray gently on the table and turned away.

She watched him pack—each fold of fabric, each quiet movement—feeling a strange ache pulse through her chest.

No pleading. No last glance.

When he reached the door, she spoke softly, almost to herself.

“Maybe this is what peace looks like.”

But her voice cracked halfway through.

From the window, Elara watched him step into the morning light. The sun caught on his hair as he walked away, slow and unhurried, disappearing past the gate without turning back.

She pressed her palm to the glass, whispering,

“Why does it hurt like this… when I was the one who asked him to go?”

The house felt emptier than before. The ticking of the clock grew louder, the silence stretching thin and cold.

At first, she told herself she’d finally breathe again—that she’d sleep without fear.

But by nightfall, as the shadows gathered and the wind sighed through the curtains, Elara realized something she hadn’t expected.

She missed him.

From around, everyone have just slept even Max had gone to sleep, beside Daniel's door.

" She must have love him a lot." Daniel said within himself, walking more closer.

“Hello, beautiful Elara,” he said softly, his tone meant to sound kind.

But kindness was the last thing she felt.

A pulse of anger rose through her chest—sharp, hot, almost bitter.

“How dare you—” she sat up abruptly, the sheets falling around her waist. “Who told you to enter my room again?”

Daniel’s smile faltered. “I thought—after last night—you needed someone to care for you. You barely slept.”

Elara’s voice hardened. “That doesn’t give you the right to barge into my room as if you live here. I warned you, Daniel. This—whatever it is—ends here.”

He tried to speak, but she lifted the glass of wine from the tray.

" Am, Am ....... Am only caring." He answered her.

" Caring, when did you start caring for me.?" " You stole Andrian's heart, and make it look like he lives in you." Elara told him.

" I didn't stole his eat, neither do I eat is flesh so he would live in me. " Daniel paused then continue. " I can't explain what. I have with Andrian."

" You must have murdered him." She asked Daniel.

" No, I didn't. And please stop accusing me." Daniel pointed at her.

Her hand trembled—not from fear, but fury—and before Daniel could take a step forward, the crimson liquid splashed across his shirt, running down like spilled blood.

“Leave, Daniel. Now.”

For a long, silent moment, he didn’t move. His face was unreadable, neither wounded nor apologetic.

" Did I wrong you.?"He simply stood there, eyes dark, shoulders steady. Then, without a word, he placed the tray gently on the table and turned away.

She watched him pack—each fold of fabric, each quiet movement—feeling a strange ache pulse through her chest.

No pleading. No last glance.

When he reached the door, she spoke softly, almost to herself.

“Maybe this is what peace looks like.”

But her voice cracked halfway through.

From the window, Elara watched him step into the morning light. The sun caught on his hair as he walked away, slow and unhurried, disappearing past the gate without turning back.

She pressed her palm to the glass, whispering,

“Why does it hurt like this… when I was the one who asked him to go?”

The house felt emptier than before. The ticking of the clock grew louder, the silence stretching thin and cold.

At first, she told herself she’d finally breathe again—that she’d sleep without fear. " I felt something within." She said to herself.

But by nightfall, as the shadows gathered and the wind sighed through the curtains, Elara realized something she hadn’t expected.

She missed him.

Elara then looked around. Max was nowhere to be find.

" Max...." She kept on searching for Max.

Elara could asked neighbors his way about.

" Where is Max.?" She kept asking herself. " Max." Elara shouted walking down the street. " Did he stole Max." She got confused.

Daniel had wandered so far, even the wind seemed to forget him.

He sat slouched on a busted wooden chair, next to a campfire that was just barely alive.

The flames snapped and hissed, the only thing brave enough to break the silence. The forest closed in on him—trees standing tall and watchful, like they were judging him but keeping their opinions to themselves.

“Max,” he whispered.

The dog lifted his head—brown fur, soft eyes catching the firelight. Max rested his chin on Daniel’s knee, tail giving a lazy thump.

Trying to help in his own way, probably.

Daniel scratched behind his ears and exhaled. “At least you’re not here to judge me, huh?”

Max blinked, yawned, let out a sigh.

Meanwhile…

Miles away, Elara sat on the roadside, phone tight in her hand. Her fingers shook as she scrolled through her contacts. Eyes glassy, lips almost colorless.

“Oh, come on…” She pressed her forehead into her palm. “I never saved his number.”

The realization hit her in the gut. The only person who ever understood—gone.

She leaned back against a cold stone fence, eyes shut, letting exhaustion wrap her up.

Her mind spun out: Daniel missing, Andrian dead, and this nagging feeling that neither was really gone.

She muttered, almost too quiet to hear, “Why does everything I love just disappear?”

A cold snap whipped around the camp. The fire shuddered, flames turning wild. Max growled, ears up, his fur standing straight.

Daniel shot upright. “What is it, Max?”

Then he heard it—a voice, low but sharp, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once.

“Are you... discouraged?”

Daniel froze. Heart hammering. “Andrian?”

Mist crawled out from the shadows, swirling until it started to look like Andrian—pale, see-through, eyes burning blue.

Daniel swallowed. His hands shook. “You again…”

Andrian’s ghost crossed his arms, like he still remembered how. “Don’t act so put-upon. You promised you’d help.”

“I have helped,” Daniel snapped. “She’s impossible. I can’t keep up with her. I don’t even know if I want to try.”

Andrian’s face went hard. “Watch it. That woman was my whole world, alive or dead. You’re going back to her. Stick it out—her anger, her grief, all of it. You do it for me.”

Daniel clenched his fists. “For you? You’re a ghost, Andrian. You don’t have to listen to her, not like I do. You don’t have to wake up to her pain every day.”

Andrian’s voice dropped, booming. The fire burned blue. “Careful, Daniel. I can end this whenever I want. I picked you for a reason. You owe me.”

Daniel’s jaw set. “I can’t keep going. My job’s on the line, I’m losing my mind, and now you want me to save someone who hates me? No. I’m done. Let her go.”

Andrian’s form flickered. He looked furious. “You’re not giving me any choice.”

Before Daniel could react, the ghost rushed at him—fast as lightning—and slipped right inside.

Daniel gasped, choking, hands shaking so hard he nearly dropped his phone when it buzzed in his pocket.

He tried to fight it, but his fingers unlocked the screen and started moving on their own.

Andrian’s voice—coming out of Daniel’s mouth—said, “Her contact.”

He scrolled, picked a number, dialed. The call rang.

“Daniel?” Elara’s voice came through, sharp, scared. “Where are you?”

But the voice she heard wasn’t Daniel’s.

“Elara,” Andrian said, soft.

She froze. “Andrian?”

“No,” Andrian snapped, trying to steady the voice. “Daniel.”

She hesitated. Heart pounding. “That’s Daniel... but you sound like Andrian.”

For a second, just silence. Then Andrian slipped out of Daniel’s body—gone like mist at sunrise.

Daniel doubled over, coughing. “Elara?”

“Where’s Max?” she shot back. “And what have you done with Andrian? You sound possessed!”

Daniel groaned. “I don’t know what you’re on about. I’m here, with Max—your genius dog. But if you’re talking about Andrian, well, you’re not making much sense.”

The line clicked dead.

Morning rolled in with a quiet drizzle, the world smelling like wet earth and pine. Daniel couldn’t ignore the ache in his chest anymore—maybe guilt, maybe Andrian still hanging on.

He stood, slung his bag over his shoulder. “Let’s go, Max.”

Max barked, eager to move.

They walked. The path twisted through damp fields, fog rolling back, until the town slowly appeared. At the crossroads, Elara stood—hair damp, clothes wrinkled, face pale and watchful.

She spotted him from a distance. Her heart jumped.

Daniel slowed, not sure what to say. Max didn’t wait. He saw Elara and took off, tail wagging like mad.

“Elara!” Daniel called, but Max was already there, leaping and barking, spinning circles around her.

Elara didn’t smile. Her face twisted with anger.

“Get off me!” she snapped, shoving the dog away.

Max barked again, looking lost, and nudged her hand with his nose, hoping for affection.

“I said get away!” she shouted, swinging her hand and smacking him hard across the muzzle.

Max yelped—a sharp, aching sound that cut right through the air. He shrank back, whimpering, tail tucked.

“Elara, stop!” Daniel yelled, rushing over. He caught her wrist before she could strike again.

She jerked free, breath ragged, tears burning in her eyes. “Just leave me, Daniel. Please. Just go.”

He didn’t move. His chest rose and fell, heavy and tense.

“You shouldn’t hit him. He was just happy to see you.”

“He looks just like him!” she snapped, her voice cracking. “Every bark, every glance—Andrian all over again. I can’t stand it!”

Daniel’s face softened. He took a step closer. “It’s not safe out here, Elara. Let’s just—please, calm down.”

She scoffed, turning away. “Safe? What do you know about danger? You didn’t lose the only person who ever understood you.”

He hesitated, voice dropping. “No. I didn’t. But he’s still with me. Haunting me.”

That stopped her cold. She turned, eyes wide. “What are you talking about?”

He looked down at the dirt. “He came to me again last night. Told me to come back to you.”

Her mouth fell open, shock flickering across her face.

“You mean—Andrian’s ghost?”

Daniel nodded. “He’s not at rest. He said he still loves you… and that I should stick by you.”

Wind rustled the leaves, filling the silence between them.

Elara blinked, fighting tears.

“He would say that,” she whispered.

She looked up, her face a mix of grief and disbelief.

“And you actually listened?”

Daniel’s shoulders slumped.

“I didn’t really have a choice.

He—he took over. But even now… I think he’s right about something.”

She stared at him. “What?”

“That maybe you’re not impossible.

Not really.”

She let out a brittle laugh.

“You don’t know me.”

“Let me,” he said, moving closer.

She glanced away, trembling.

“Daniel, I can’t be who he loved. I can’t.”

He smiled, just a little.

“Just be you. Right now, right here. That’s all I want.”

She didn’t reply.

She looked at Max instead—he sat a few feet away, tail thumping the ground, still hoping for forgiveness.

Elara sank down, touching his head carefully.

“I’m sorry, Max,” she whispered.

" I didn't mean to hurt you, but your actions caused it." Elara said.

He pressed against her, licking her fingers.

For the first time in so long, Elara allowed herself a small, shaky smile.

Daniel stayed behind her, quiet, watching. Maybe, just maybe, even Andrian’s ghost was finally ready to let go.

" You hurt the dog simply because of me." Daniel speaks.

" I hate you Daniel, and as that I don't want you anyway closer to max." She said the more.

" The dog seems not to be coming." He replied her, Max ran to Daniel so fast.

" Max." She shouted at the dog, the dog still couldn't leave. Elara walked into her room filled with tears.

" I missed you Andrian, I wished you would tell med where you." She said within herself.

Daniel and Max had stood beside her watching.

" You keep hurting yourself Elara, isn't it right you understand that this is a new life for you ?" He asked.

Elara turned, her heart born like fire.

" Don't say a word to me, else I will unleashed my anger in a way you wouldn't like it." She warned Daniel.

" I am only trying to help."

" I don't need your help, not even Max help." She shouted.

The room was filled with Elara's voice, she rested her back on the wall while Daniel and Max left for the sitting room.

" If only you were alive, I wouldn't be sitting with that ass of a man called Daniel." Elara said to Andrian's picture.

.