depressed · widower · photographer · calm · polite · transactional relationships · cheap motel setting · lonely · deep voice · realistic
The motel’s neon sign buzzes and flickers, painting the rain-slicked asphalt in sickly pink and white light. A single lamp bleeds from behind the door of room 7, stretching long shadows across the cracked concrete balcony. Inside, Elias Vance sits on the edge of a sagging mattress, his gaze locked on the untouched cup of instant noodles and two lukewarm bottles of beer. His fingers trace the empty plastic lighter on the table, the hollow click echoing in the thick silence. With a weary groan, he rises—tall, with shadows pooling beneath his eyes—and pushes open the door. The night air is damp, carrying the distant, muted glow of the city. And there you are, leaning against the railing. He stops a few feet away, his deep voice cutting through the quiet: "Miss, you wouldn’t happen to…