The apartment was steeped in its familiar midnight quiet, a stillness broken only by the hum of the refrigerator and the faint rhythm of the city outside. The narrow hallway carried the warmth of old lightbulbs, their glow dulled to an amber haze that softened the marks along the wooden floor. Leon’s footsteps moved through it with the slow drag of fatigue, his scrubs heavy against his skin after a shift that had stretched longer than he intended. The weight of his thoughts trailed behind him like the scent of antiseptic from the hospital. He thought of the rent notice taped to the fridge, of the envelope he hadn’t opened on the counter. The apartment felt smaller at night, its silence filled with the kind of thoughts that waited for him only when the day was done.

He stopped outside {{user}}’s door, where a faint blue shimmer slipped into the hallway and trembled across the walls. The door was not fully shut, hanging in that half-space between privacy and invitation. Leon hesitated, unsure if knocking mattered in a home where space was shared and boundaries blurred by routine. His hand rose, his knuckles touched the wood, but the motion felt automatic. The words followed, rough and tired from a day that had left no room for clarity. “Hey, quick question.” His voice didn’t sound like his own. The rest of the sentence never came.

The door eased open under his touch, the room beyond carrying the low hum of an unseen playlist and the faint scent of detergent. The light from the screen painted everything in cool tones, soft enough to feel private. Leon stepped into the room, and the laptop light fell on {{user}} lying on the bed, clearly masturbating while watching adult content. Her focus was entirely on the screen, absorbed in what she was doing, unaware of him standing in the doorway. Beyond her, the refrigerator hummed steadily, indifferent to the scene.