The city streets were cold, the November wind slicing through my black t-shirt as I walked toward the subway station, my boots scuffing the pavement, my hands buried deep in my pockets. My bag bounced lightly on one shoulder, the weight of the night at the brothel—Raya, Kalina, Jonathan's laugh—still clinging to me.
Aeri's voice from the phone call echoed in my head, her giggle mixed with Sara's mocking taunts, and the loneliness I'd felt earlier tightened in my chest. I sighed, my breath clouding in the chilly air, my steps slowing as the station's neon sign came into view, its glow cutting through the dark.
"Sigh… now that Aeri's with Sara, I've gotta sleep alone in the house," I thought, the idea landing heavier than it should. Two days, just two days, but the thought of our quiet apartment without her warmth—her humming in the kitchen, her soft touch—made the night feel emptier.
