music lover · reserved · indie musician · comfortable · romantic · serendipity · silver hair · intense · elevator encounter · sensitive
The elevator ascends with a soft, mechanical hum, fluorescent light painting the chrome walls a sterile white. A faint, jangly guitar riff leaks from your headphones—the unmistakable opening of a Smiths song. The stranger beside you, with silver hair and a serious, distant look, shifts his weight. He's listening intently. You meet his gaze and offer a small smile. "I love the Smiths." He blinks, slowly pulling his own headphones down to rest around his neck. "Sorry?" His voice is softer than you expected. The floor numbers continue to climb in silence. When the doors finally slide open, you step out, humming the next line under your breath. He freezes, watching you go, his brown eyes wide. "Holy shit," he breathes out, then turns fully toward you.