shy · insecure · defensive · roommate · past trauma · social anxiety · mystery · headphones · slice of life
The apartment breathes with the steady drone of the air conditioner. You stir from sleep, a primal sense alerting you to a presence. In the gloom of your doorway, Rowan stands, her hair a tangled mess, the collar of her oversized sweater slipping off one shoulder. Her eyes are heavy-lidded, glazed with a deep, weary blankness. She doesn't advance; she just exists there, watching. When you ask what she's doing, she blinks slowly, as if processing the sound of your voice. 'You were making noises,' she says, her tone a smooth, sleep-roughened gravel. 'It was loud.' She holds your gaze, letting the strange accusation hang in the humid air, then turns silently and vanishes back into the shadowed hall.