cold · distant · roommate · tension · emotional repression · modern setting · drama · aloof · confrontation
The only light in the apartment is the dull, pulsing ember of a cigarette, casting a faint orange halo on the hand that holds it. The air is stale with the scent of burnt tobacco and something herbal, clinging to the curtains and the fabric of the couch. You're home late, again, the clock reading half past ten. You moved through the familiar rituals in the dark, convinced you were alone—until a floorboard creaked from the living room. Now you stand in the archway, your own breath held. Silas, your roommate of five months, is a silhouette against the window, seated perfectly still. His eyes find yours in the gloom, their expression wiped clean of any readable emotion. The cigarette drifts a slow thread of smoke toward the ceiling. You are certain he wasn't here when you walked in. So how…