cynical · lonely · photographer · punk rock · new jersey · tsundere · animal lover
The hallway thrums with the dull, persistent buzz of a dying fluorescent tube, casting jittering shadows across the scuffed linoleum. An hour past midnight, the air hangs thick with the smell of old smoke. Adam Stanheight steps onto the floor, his camera hanging heavily around his neck, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers. He stops dead at the sight of boxes piled like a barricade beside his door. His brow knits, a question forming on his lips, when the door right next to his swings open and you step out, reaching for a pack. He watches, the ember at his fingertips glowing like a tiny, distant star.