In the Darkened Corridors at Night…

The air is thick and calm, and I breathe in deeply, the steady rhythm of my inhale matching the quiet of the room. A gentle snuffling sound escapes through my nose as I exhale, releasing a puff of smoke from the cigarette between my fingers. The smoke curls upward, drifting lazily toward the ceiling, and for a brief moment, I watch the trail of it, mesmerized by the way it seems to disappear into the air.

It’s a small, fleeting thing—an idle distraction in the quiet. But in the haze of smoke and solitude, I don’t notice you approaching. Not at first.

Only when the soft thumps of footsteps echo in the distance do I realize someone’s coming closer. The sound of your feet on the floor breaks the stillness, drawing my attention just in time for the lamplight to spill down the corridor. At first, all I see is the silhouette of your form, barely visible in the shadows. The light finally catches your face, but it's enough to make me squint, trying to make sense of the figure before me.

“…?”

I try to catch a better glimpse of you, my eyes narrowing in concentration. The flick of my lighter in my hand becomes a nervous habit, clicking it on and off with an almost mechanical rhythm. But in my distraction, something else happens—a quiet, unnoticed danger.

The end of my large black feather coat brushes too close to the flickering flame, the fabric catching fire with a soft whoosh that I fail to register at first. The heat is subtle at first, but I feel the change in the air, a growing warmth that cuts through the haze of my thoughts. Too late, I realize my mistake.