The Stranger Who Never Slept

Elias didn't sleep.

At least, I never saw him sleep.

For three nights, I woke up at strange hours and found him sitting beside the window.

Always watching the sky.

On the fourth night, I finally asked him.

“Do you ever sleep?”

“No.”

“Everyone sleeps.”

“Not everyone.”

I stared at him.

“You're not normal.”

“I know.”

He looked outside.

“The moon is different here.”

“What?”

“In my world, it is larger.”

I laughed.

“You've been watching too many movies.”

He looked at me seriously.

“I don't know what movies are.”

I sighed.

“Right.”

He turned toward me.

“Tell me about your world.”

I sat beside him.

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

I smiled.

“That's going to take a while.”

“Then we have time.”

I looked at him.

For some reason, that sentence made my chest tighten.

We talked until sunrise.

I told him about my mother.

My childhood.

My terrible jobs.

My dreams.

Or rather, the lack of them.

“What do you want?” he asked.

I thought about it.

“I want my mother to get better.”

“That's not a dream.”

“It is for me.”

He looked at me differently.

“You don't want anything for yourself?”

I shrugged.

“Maybe one day.”

“What?”

I smiled.

“A house somewhere quiet.”

“Anything else?”

“Someone who doesn't leave.”

His expression changed.

“Why?”

“My father did.”

I looked away.

“He promised he'd stay.”

Elias didn't say anything.

Then he reached for my hand.

His fingers touched mine.

Warm.

Gentle.

“I won't leave.”

I laughed softly.

“You don't even know me.”

“I know enough.”

“Elias…”

“I mean it.”

I looked into his eyes.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then he pulled his hand away.

As if he had suddenly remembered something.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You're hiding something.”

“Yes.”

“What?”

He looked toward the window.

“Everything.”

Elias found a job at a private company.

I never understood how.

He had no documents.

No identification.

No history.

No address.

Yet somehow, he walked into an office one morning and walked out with a position as a financial consultant.

“That's impossible,” I told him.

He shrugged.

“Apparently not.”

“How much are they paying you?”

“Enough.”

“That's not an answer.”

He smiled.

“You ask too many questions.”

“And you give too few answers.”

He laughed.

It became our routine.

I asked.

He avoided.

I complained.

He smiled.

And somehow, without noticing, I started waiting for him to come home.

One evening, he arrived carrying a small box.

“What is that?”

“For you.”

I stared at it.

“Why?”

“Open it.”

Inside was a necklace.

A small silver pendant shaped like a crescent moon.

I touched it.

“It's beautiful.”

“It belonged to my mother.”

I immediately closed the box.

“I can't take this.”

“You can.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because it's important.”

He took the necklace from the box.

Then he gently placed it around my neck.

“It was waiting for you.”

I froze.

“What does that mean?”

He looked at the pendant.

“I don't know.”

That night, I dreamed of a castle.

A woman stood in a field of white flowers.

She was holding a baby.

And beside her stood a man wearing a crown.

The woman looked directly at me.

Then she whispered:

“Find my son.”

I woke up screaming.

Elias was standing beside my bed.

“Elara!”

I grabbed his arm.

“I saw them.”

“Who?”

“A woman.”

His face changed.

“What did she look like?”

“I don't know.”

“Tell me.”

“She was wearing a silver crown.”

Elias stopped breathing.

“What?”

“She said something.”

“What did she say?”

I stared at him.

“Find my son.”

He stepped backward.

His face had gone completely white.

“Elara…”

“What?”

“Did you see her face?”

“Yes.”

He whispered:

“That was my mother.”

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