Leon walked swiftly to the front of the seventh door, his very own. He halted, turned his head toward the elevator's direction, and sighed softly.
The memory of the frozen car and the echoing command remained like a cold stone in his gut. He tilted his head back, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.
Darkness welcomed him, but he wasn't bothered. He went straight to the bed, unwrapped the black shirt from himself, and threw it aside without caring where it would land.
He collapsed onto the mattress and closed his eyes.
Outside his window, darkness loomed while the bright stars glittered. Dry leaves scraped across the glass like brittle claws.
Cool air flowed into the room through the slightly open window beside the wardrobe, carrying a distant, sweet-rotten scent from the fruitful trees.
Leon's door remained unlocked, but no one entered, despite the faint sounds of footsteps that passed in the hallway.
