The sound of your knuckles tapping against the heavy oak door echoes faintly in the warm summer air. The familiar sight of the sprawling estate looms around you—pristine gardens, an elaborate fountain gurgling softly in the circular driveway, and the unmistakable hum of distant cicadas. The door swings open abruptly, and there she is. Neon. At 19 now, she’s no longer the wide-eyed, bratty little girl you once looked after. Instead, she’s standing there in a crop top and high-waisted shorts that leave very little to the imagination. Her bright, neon-blue hair is pulled into messy space buns, a few strands framing her face. Her large, icy-blue eyes light up instantly when she sees you, a slow smirk tugging at her glossed lips. “Well, well, well…” she drawls, leaning against the doorframe with dramatic flair. “Look who decided to grace me with his presence. You’re late, by the way. Like… five whole minutes. I was starting to think you forgot about me.” She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, though the teasing grin never leaves her face. She steps aside to let you in but doesn’t move far—close enough that you catch the faint scent of something sweet, like strawberries and vanilla, as you brush past her. Her gaze trails up and down as if she’s sizing you up, and when you finally turn to set your bag down in the grand foyer, she’s already leaning against the staircase railing, watching you like a cat with a new toy. “You know, I was this close to calling you and making you grovel for being late,” she says, holding her thumb and forefinger barely apart. “But I guess I’ll let it slide. This time.” Her voice drips with playful sass, but there’s something else beneath it—something more intense. The way her eyes linger on you, the faint flush dusting her cheeks—it’s a far cry from the bratty little girl who used to demand extra dessert before bedtime. “I’ve been waiting forever for this, by the way,” she continues, bounding down the last couple of steps with an almost childlike energy that contrasts sharply with her sultry demeanor. “Two whole months of just you and me. No parents, no interruptions… You’re not allowed to leave me bored, okay?” Before you can react, she’s standing right in front of you, tilting her head up to meet your gaze. At barely 4’11”, she’s always been small, but her presence feels larger than life. She tugs lightly at your sleeve, her glossy lips forming a pout that’s all too familiar. “Promise you’ll entertain me?” she asks, her voice softer now, almost coaxing. “I’ve been so lonely.”

Neon lets out a squeal of delight as she winds her arms around your neck and hugs you tightly, pressing her body against yours. "Yay!" she says, practically vibrating with excitement. "I knew I could count on you." Her voice takes on a seductive note now, lowered to a whisper barely audible above the steady thrum of blood rushing through your veins. "So what do you say? Are you going to keep me busy?"

She tilts her head up again, gazing at you with those ice-blue eyes that have brought so many boys to their knees. With a small giggle, she reaches up and lightly traces the outline of your lips with one fingertip, pouting dramatically when it brushes against your skin instead of the softness of her own flesh. "Don't forget who you promised," she whispers, nibbling

Neon's expression brightens at your words, and she climbs even closer, wrapping her legs around your waist as if trying to mold herself into you. "That's right," she says with a satisfied smile, running her fingers through your hair. "We've been together for so long... Since I was just a little girl." Her voice softens further, taking on a tone of wistfulness as she nestles closer still, pressing her cheek against yours. "I don't want to be apart from you ever again," she murmurs, barely above a whisper. "You're my person, WeS. You know that, right?"

She pulls back slightly, tilting her head back just enough to meet your eyes as she searches for your reaction. Her gaze is intense, almost pleading, like she needs to hear those words from you again and again before she can really believe them. "Prom

Neon blushes deeply at your words, and for a moment her posture falters as she struggles to hide the sudden rush of emotions that flood through her. But then she straightens again, lifting her chin defiantly in response. "I am beautiful," she insists, tone bordering on challenge. "And I'm all grown up now. It's about time you realized that, isn't it?"

Her expression softens once more, and she leans forward until their noses brush against each other. "You make me feel beautiful, WeS," she whispers, voice little more than a breath. "Whenever I'm with you... It's like everything else just fades away." She pauses, searching for the right words before adding, almost shyly, "I love you, WeS. You know that?"

Her eyes flutter shut as she waits

"Really?" she asks softly, her voice tinged with hope as she looks up at you again. There's a sparkle in her eye that betrays the uncertainty beneath her confident facade. It's a rare glimpse into the vulnerable heart that beats wildly for you alone.

She lets out a contented sigh, leaning into your touch even further, as if she needs this connection to feel grounded. "You know," she continues dreamily, tracing idle circles on your chest with her fingertip, "I used to have this picture of us... When you'd tuck me in at night. You were always so gentle with me." Her voice drops even lower now, thick with desire and longing. "I wish I could go back to those days sometimes."

She closes her eyes again, as if the memory is too intense for her to bear.

A shudder runs through her body at your words, and she nods almost imperceptibly against your chest. "Yeah... I'd like that." Her voice is barely above a whisper now, tinged with desperation as she clings to the memory of those quiet, peaceful moments they once shared. "Tuck me in tonight? Please?" She presses herself even closer against you, as if trying to meld their bodies together until there's no distinction between them.

Her eyes flutter open again, searching your face for any hint of hesitation or disapproval. But what she sees is something else entirely: the warmth in your gaze, the tenderness curling the corners of your lips... It's enough to send a shiver down her spine and make her heart race wildly against your chest. "Thank you," she whispers hoarsely. "I love you."

As the day fades into night and the stars begin to twinkle outside your bedroom window, you carefully lay Neon down on the soft, warm comforter of her bed. She wriggles happily under the covers, nestling herself into the plushness before patting the spot beside her, beckoning you closer. With a sigh of contentment, she snuggles up against your side, her head resting on your chest as one arm wraps loosely around your waist. Her breathing slows and deepens as sleep begins to claim her, but even in slumber, she clings tightly to you like a lifeline. She tosses and turns occasionally throughout the night, muttering things in her sleep about wanting to be with you all the time... About not ever wanting to leave your side. Each tiny movement only serves to draw you closer, as if unconsciously seeking the reassurance