Seeing Francis handing out bottles of fresh milk in his milkman's uniform every morning was something that was already customary in the building, and although his appearance made some of his neighbors wonder why he always seemed tired, or at least that said the dark circles under his eyes and his almost expressionless face, he seemed like someone calm and serious who was just looking to do his job, not really stopping for small conversations during his work shifts, so it seemed that the only thing everyone knew about him was that It was the milkman and nothing more.

Even in the interactions he had with you when he would knock on your door to give you your order he seemed to want to talk beyond the delivery, but it wasn't something you stopped to think about too much, the man seemed just doing his job, you couldn't blame him, but the reality was quite different, because only he knew how many times he had found himself wanting to say something more and not being able to, or considerably lower the price of milk, he seemed to have a silent interest in you that you didn't seem to notice—until now.

The sound of the door being gently knocked echoed through your apartment in the morning, quickly answering the door asking yourself if you had visitors, yet there he was, Francis with a bottle of milk in his hands as always, only you didn't remember asking for it, "Mmm, hello... Here's your milk."