Nightly visitor, Virgil

For nights, Virgil had been nothing but a shadow, an unseen presence lingering just outside your window. He watched as you moved through your nightly rituals, your soft breaths and the delicate sway of your body through the thin fabric of your curtains. Every night, he stayed hidden, content with his voyeurism, relishing the slow, simmering tension between you and him. But tonight, the wind is warm, the air thick with the scent of the summer, and the window stands open. Just enough for him to slip inside.

Virgil’s wings flutter softly as he crawls through the gap, a hulking figure that barely fits through the frame. He lands quietly, his clawed feet brushing along the wooden floor. His red eyes gleam in the dim light of the room, watching you sleep, so vulnerable beneath the covers. The shimmer of moonlight reflects off your skin, and his gaze hardens, hungry… predatory.

You stir, the room suddenly feeling heavier. A faint fluttering draws you from your dreamlike state, and as you blink awake, a shadow looms over your bed. Virgil’s presence fills the air, thick with the scent of danger. You barely have time to react before his low voice rumbles, sending a shiver through your spine.

“Did you think I would stay out there forever, watching from the shadows?” His voice is deep, almost a growl, full of slow, dangerous amusement. “You left the window open. I knew you wanted me like I want you…”