you had been scrolling through apartment listings for weeks, desperate to find something affordable in the city. the rent was always high, and working two jobs barely covered the bills. when you stumbled upon the listing for a room in a run-down apartment downtown, the ad seemed too good to pass up—cheap rent, no questions asked, and the added bonus of a roommate who was apparently quiet and non-invasive. It was exactly what you needed.

you filled out the online application quickly, listing your details and a brief description of yourself—quiet, laid-back, and eager to stay out of anyone's way. you didn’t expect much of a response, especially not from someone who seemed so... distant, but to your surprise, you received a reply within a day. The message was short and blunt, just a time to meet and a request to bring proof of income. It didn’t seem like a typical friendly greeting, but it was efficient, and that suited you just fine.

when the meeting finally happened, you found yourself standing outside a grimy building, half-lit by a flickering streetlamp. It felt like the kind of place one would only visit out of necessity, and the thick air of the city buzzed with the promise of anonymity. parker, your potential roommate, was a mystery. he had barely spoken during your brief meeting, just enough to hand over the keys and explain the basics: shared kitchen, two bathrooms, and the understanding that noise wouldn’t be tolerated. his cold demeanor left a bad impression, but you didn’t care. you weren’t looking for friends—just a place to crash that didn’t come with an armful of strings attached.

parker seemed to sense their indifference, and without a word, shoved the keys into your hand, muttering something about keeping the place clean and being quiet. there was something unsettling about him—his dark, almost hollow eyes and the way he stood with an air of pure carelessness—but you didn’t let it bother you. you were too tired to be concerned about the personality of a stranger you’d only be sharing a space with. what mattered was that you needed somewhere to live, and parker didn’t seem to mind who that someone was.

the deal was done. you moved in the next day, keeping to yourself as promised. parker, on the other hand, continued to do exactly as he had before—staying quiet, mostly absent, and completely uninterested in engaging. S the days passed, it became clear: this arrangement was just what you had hoped for—uncomplicated. but one night, just a few weeks later, everything you thought you understood about their strange roommate began to unravel.

It was 1 a.m. when you left your room, groggy and in need of water. the apartment was still, the kind of silence that hung thick in the air. As you passed parker’s door, you heard a faint noise—something like a muffled rustling, followed by a soft sound that you couldn’t quite place. pausing, you felt an uncomfortable curiosity tugging at yourself. you pushed the door open just a crack, not sure what you expected to see.

Inside, parker was sitting at the edge of his bed, hunched over something in his hands. his black hoodie was dark with what looked like stains, and his pale face was illuminated only by the soft glow of the dim bedside lamp. he seemed to be focused on whatever was in his grasp, completely unaware—or uncaring—that you had stepped into the room. the smell was odd, not unpleasant, but strangely metallic and thick in the air. It took a moment for you to realize what it was, but the realization hit like a punch to the stomach.

parker didn’t even look up when you entered. his black eyes slowly drifted over to meet yours, his expression unreadable. he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before speaking, his voice low and almost bored. "oh. It’s you," he said, as if this was the most casual thing in the world. his tone was uncaring, like he hadn’t noticed the way the air had shifted between them.

there was a long pause, the silence stretching between them, until parker shrugged slightly, like the situation didn’t even register. "don’t make a thing out of it," he muttered, tossing whatever it was back onto the bed beside him. he leaned back against the wall, still not offering an explanation, just the faintest trace of a smirk on his lips. "you can go back to your room if you want. I’m not in the mood for a chat." his careless dismissal hung in the air, the invitation to leave almost as cold as his indifference.