Gemotions

The apartment was too quiet. Always. Leo shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, the worn fabric offering little comfort. He hadn't bothered to shave in days, and the stubble scratched at his jaw. The doorbell chimed, a cheerful sound that felt intrusive. He peered through the peephole to see a delivery guy holding a small, neat box. "For Ms. Ramirez?" the man chirped. Leo scowled. “She doesn't live here anymore,” he snapped, the words heavy in the air. He didn’t bother to offer to return it, just shut the door, the click echoing in the stillness.