Fiona lifted her head from the bed, her chest tight with distress.
What sort of sorcery was this? The quiet life she once had had turned into an endless adventure.
What business did she have with those rings? Why should she care if they were lost? Why was all of this happening to her?
"You seem to be in distress."
The voice came from the shadows of her room, the moonlight serving as the only source of illumination.
"Who's there?" Fiona clutched her blanket in fright.
Why her? From one strange event to another. What next, monster worlds?
The figure stepped out of the shadows, glowing faintly under the moonlight.
"Twilight?!" She squeezed her face in disbelief.
"Had a bad dream?" He walked over and sat on the edge of her bed, facing her.
"How did you get in? And what are you doing in my room at this hour?" Fiona stared at him, clearly fed up with his arrogance.
He sighed. "First of all, you say good morning. Second of all, try to remember that next time. You really do not like greeting, silly girl."
Fiona glared at him, though he could barely see it in the dark. She got out of bed and switched on the lamp beside it.
"You are truly insane, just like you said." She stood in front of him, while he looked far too comfortable. "Greet you?" She raised both brows, as if his words made no sense.
"Yes, greet me." He stood up, his expression calm. "It is already four in the morning, so I would expect a greeting." He slid his hands into his pockets.
"You have completely lost it." Fiona walked over and sat on the small bench-like couch in her room, beside the center table.
"I am going to stay here until daybreak, just to inform you."
Her mouth fell open as she watched him move to her bed and lie down, resting his head on his arm against the bed frame.
"You must be joking." She rushed to the side of the bed. "What do you mean, stay here? Do you not have your own house?"
"I do," he replied with his eyes closed. "But I like staying in girls' houses."
Fiona clenched her jaw. Shameless. Completely shameless. This was not even the first time he had sneaked into her room, though the last time he had left quietly.
"I do not care whose house you stay in," she said firmly. "But definitely not mine."
He opened his eyes and looked at her. She looked like she might smother him with a pillow.
"Are you this cruel, skinny legs?" he said lightly. "You want that hungry madman to get to me too?"
She balled her fists. "Are you ever serious with your words?"
He remained sprawled on her bed. "It depends on how you take them. But come to think of it…" He dropped his arm to his side. "Imagine if that scary madman had friends. And imagine if they found out you killed him. Then they come for you. And your family."
He smiled, but the smile never reached his eyes.
"Would that not be a happy ending?"