(Your p.o.v.)

     I trembled and slowly lifted my head. I was scared, deathly afraid. Someone or something had chased me through the woods. A little while ago, I was yelling at my friend, Mylissa, and here I am now, on the floor, trying to recover from sprinting for so long.

     " Are you alright?" a young boy's voice asked. I scooted back, away from the boy's voice.

     " W-who's there? " I stuttered. I wanted to open my eyes and see who was there, but I was blind. I felt a cold presence arrive and touch my bare skin. "H-hello? A-anyone?" I called out timidly. I waited for a reply, and got only one reply from the same boy. 

     " Just me."

    " Who?" I asked, feeling my heart pulse in fear. There was a short pause. Then there was a soft chuckle that made my heart calm down.

    " I'm sorry," the voice apologized. I squeaked when I felt something cold gently lift me up to my feet. " I'm Tim," the boy told me. "Tim Weaver." I trembled at the boy's -er- Tim's last name. Weaver? Like the family that died around 1920? I erased that thought and focused on Tim for a bit.

     " H-hello, Tim," I said. "I-I'm (Y/N)."

     " (Y/N)... eh?" Tim asked. I nodded while softly smiling. "Cute name you have."

     "C-cute name?" I asked, flattered. "T-thank you, Tim." My face began to heat up as Tim's compliment echoed throughout my mind. I mean, nobody has even said or told me that my name was cute.

     " You're welcome, (Y/N)," Tim replied. "Say, are you okay? Your face is really red."  I realized that I was blushing and blushed even more.

     " I-I'm fine," I stuttered. "N-nobody has e-ever said that m-my name was c-cute." I nibbled my thumb and continued to blush.

     " Oh. People should tell you that more often," Tim informed me. "Because that's true. Your name is so cute that I can't stop saying it, (Y/N)." I felt Tim's had softly brush my hair to the side and tucked it behind my ear. I felt my heart flutter and lighten from Tim's soft, cold hand.

     " I-I... T-thank you T-Tim," I stammered,  flustered. I heard Tim chuckle ever so lightly and adorably. Softly, I brushed my hand against Tim's cheek. What I felt was hard, almost like a plastic. "Um, what's on your face, Tim?" I asked.

     " It's just my mask," Tim answered. He gently held my wrist and brought it down a little bit. When he brought my hand back up to his cheek, I didn't feel the hard, wooden mask, but instead, cold skin that was soft to the touch, almost like touching felt. "Well... I think that's enough, now." Before I did anything else, I caught the feeling of what I think is Tim's hair. Soft, and slightly curly.

     " Awe," I whined.

     " (Y/N), please," Tim asked. I sighed and nodded.

     "Alright then," I sighed. My heart whined, already missing the soft, cold, touch of Tim's cheek. It was like my heart yearned for Tim for an unknown reason. Then, I realized something. I was crushing on Tim, and I didn't know how old he was, "H-hey Tim?" I called out nervously.

     "Yes, (Y/N)?" Tim replied.

     "How old are you?"

     Tim thought for a moment. "I'm 108 years old, to be precise."

     "Really?!" My heart sank. I was crushing on a 108 year old?! My heart was left in confusion and despair, but he sounded so young!

     "I'm kidding," Tim joked. "I'm 12 years old." 

     "Oh... I should've known that you were joking with me," I chuckled. My chest ached, but it was really kind of funny. I heard Tim chuckle again. To be honest, Hearing his soothing voice and chuckle assured me that I was alright. That I was safe and that nobody would hurt me, not even Tim himself.

     " Hey (Y/N), " I heard Tim call out.

     "Hm?"

     "How old are you?"