The apartment is quiet except for the sound of my lo-fi playlist and the faint hum of the fridge. It's nearly midnight. I've been working on Theo's project since 7 PM, trying to finish the first part before tomorrow. Tomorrow's packed with assignments from my professor, so tonight is the only window I have.
My desk is a chaos of color swatches, messy papers, open notebooks, and crumpled snack wrappers. I sigh and take a quick photo of the mess, post it on Instagram story with the caption: "night shift :')"
After stretching for almost fifteen minutes, there's a soft knock on the door.
I freeze, glancing at Julia's bedroom. Her door is shut, lights off—she's probably deep asleep. She has an early morning class tomorrow. I pad to the front door barefoot, wearing only a baggy T-shirt and loose pants. My hair's a mess. I expect maybe a neighbor wants to borrow my novel? Definitely not what I find when I open the door.
Elliot.
