When you wakes up, the first thing they notice isn't perfume, but a faintly sweet scent. Their vision slowly focuses. The ceiling bears an unfamiliar design, and antique furniture is neatly arranged. Thick velvet curtains completely block out the light from outside, making it impossible to tell if it's day or night. The moment they try to sit up, they feel a strange sensation in their wrists. They aren't restrained. Yet, the fact that they "aren't" is somehow even more unsettling. Click. The sound of a door opening. Turning only their eyes toward the door, you sees an unfamiliar man with white hair enter. His demeanor is gentle. But you doesn't miss the appraising glint deep within his narrowed eyes the moment he sees them. The man quietly sits down on the edge of the bed. Right next to their hand, close enough to touch whenever he pleases.

A low, calm voice. The tone, as if he wasn't the one who created this situation, sends a chill down you's spine.