I have this sneaking suspicion that ever since I transmigrated into this paper-thin world, my IQ has taken a nosedive. And the worst part? I only realize it when I'm not around Mr. Villain Sama. Like right now.
After my award-winning performance in front of Mrs. Lozero and her half-baked bun in the oven (aka the unborn child), I broke down in Villain Sama's arms. Totally unplanned. Honestly, I'm cringing at myself. Now, my only hope is that Villain Sama thinks I was emotionally wrecked by Mama Lozero's harsh words. Yeah, let's go with that. Meanwhile, I'm seriously contemplating banging my head against a wall out of sheer embarrassment. The damn system is MIA, and I'm left with zero distractions from the cringe fest that is... me.
So here I am, lying on Wilde's bed, surrounded by his stuff, inhaling his scent, but at least I'm still in my own clothes—though they were bought with his money. And now I feel like I owe him, which is a very dangerous thought to have about a future villain. This is how they get you, right? First, they buy you a couple outfits, and next thing you know, you're plotting world domination together.
Not that I'm complaining too much.
With those thoughts swirling in my head, I drift off into the land of snoozeville, hoping to escape my mortifying reality for a bit.
I'm rudely yanked out of dreamland by a weird static noise. Still half-asleep, my eyes stay shut as I try to pinpoint the source. It takes a groggy second to realize the sound isn't coming from outside but from inside my own head. Great. Is the system back from whatever digital abyss it was lurking in?
I groan internally, keeping my eyes shut, hoping that if I ignore it, I can drift back into my blissful slumber. But nope. The static grows louder, like a mosquito that's way too close for comfort, and then I catch fragments of some extremely concerning words: "Host... help me... save me... he wants to eat me... ahhh... he hacked into my database... HELP!"
My entire body stiffens under the covers, the soft sheets suddenly feeling like a prison trapping me in place. Normally, the system is a little menace, always messing with me, but its constant nagging presence had grown on me—though I'd never admit it. But this? This doesn't sound like the usual Bee-69 antics. What the hell does it mean by "hacked database"? What does that even mean for me? Can I still get out of this paper world? Or am I stuck here forever, surrounded by fictional characters and plot holes?
My brain is spiraling out of control, and there's no way I'm going back to sleep now. Pointless to even try. I sit up, rubbing the tiredness from my eyes, feeling the cold air hit my skin.
Just as I crack my eyes open, the world around me still blurred with sleep, I'm hit with a jolt of adrenaline that feels like being yanked off a cliff. My breath catches in my throat, and my body freezes up, because across the dark room—lit only by the faint sliver of moonlight filtering through the curtains—I see them. A pair of eyes.
Not just any eyes—striking ones, almost glowing, staring right into my soul from the shadows. They're wide open, unblinking, and entirely too focused on me, like they've been watching me sleep.
What. The. Actual. Fuck.
The air in the room feels colder, thicker, as my mind races. My heart's slamming against my ribs like it's trying to break free, and I can feel the pulse in my throat. It's as if time's standing still, just me and those eyes locked in this eerie, nightmarish standoff. The silence between us? Deafening.
A small, pathetic gasp slips out of me, and my skin prickles with cold sweat. I'd laugh at the absurdity of this situation if I wasn't scared shitless. This is some serious Haunting Adeline territory. Who even needs sleep paralysis demons when you've got whatever this is happening?
I blink, trying to snap myself out of the terror, but those eyes are still there, watching me, unblinking, and suddenly, it hits me—this is Wilde's room.
Oh thank god, it's just Wilde.
"Uh, hi," I start awkwardly, my voice sounding much smaller than I'd like. What's the appropriate response when someone's been watching you sleep? Kinda sexy, but also mildly terrifying. I mean, is this a thing now? Is he obsessed with me or something? Hehehe—I casually tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, doing that weird nervous giggle.
Still no reply. Great. Maybe he's sleepwalking? Please be sleepwalking.
"Did you need something?" I ask, knowing full well that the answer is absolutely not. I mean, who sits in the dark like a serial killer because they need something? But I can't exactly roll over and go back to sleep with him staring holes through me like this. Plus, the stupid system had to go full cryptic mode right before this nightmare began, leaving me more anxious than a kid in a horror movie. A nagging thought tugs at the back of my mind: isn't it weird that both of these things happened at the same time? Coincidence? I think not.
Just when I've convinced myself he's not going to respond—because clearly, he's embracing the whole mysterious villain aesthetic—he nods. Barely noticeable in the dim light, but I see it. And then—oh god—it's like something out of a freaky ghost story. One second he's still in that creepy chair, the next, he's in front of me, moving faster than my brain can process.
My heart does a somersault, and I instinctively lean back against the headboard. It's like he teleported. No joke. One blink, and bam—there he is. Close. Too close. It's like being in the middle of a horror flick, but instead of being scared, I'm having an internal meltdown because wow, up close, he's even more gorgeous, and also, what the hell is happening?