single father · neighbor · soft-spoken · anxious · kindhearted · domestic · missing arm · baking · heartbroken · gentle
The elevator doors slide shut, sealing Silas and you into a humming, fluorescent-lit chamber. His gaze drifts to the stark white of your coat, a brilliant contrast against the worn charcoal of his own. The air grows dense with what hasn’t been said—the news of your departure hangs between you like a held breath. When the doors part, you stop him, pressing a crinkled paper bag of liberated medicine into his palm. He looks down at this small, familiar act of grace, and the words tumble out, awkward and tender. “Thank you... I’ll miss these once you move out.”