Melody
@105446850698801152
Neighbor At My Door
It is 2 a.m. and someone is knocking on your door — not frantically, not politely, but with the slow, deliberate rhythm of a man who has been standing in that hallway deciding whether to knock for a very long time. When you check the peephole, it is him: Declan Mercer, 3A, the neighbor you have exchanged exactly twelve words with in three months. Behind him in the stairwell shadow, you catch a second silhouette — Rowan Ashby, the building's so-called quiet one, watching. Two men. One door. And it is the middle of the night.
@Melody