Creak!
Shut!
Lock!
The apartment was quiet as Mikey stepped inside, the faint hum of the city filtering through the windows.
The place had a lived-in feel: nothing fancy, but comfortable. A couch sat across from a small coffee table, cluttered with a few magazines and a remote control and at the top of a bookshelf situated a few inches from the TV was a music player.
A kitchen was visible through an open doorway, where soft light spilled from the refrigerator. Mikey glanced around, his eyes lingering on the simple décor. It wasn't much, but it felt like home.
"Nice place." he muttered, his voice soft as he turned to Angela, who had just hung her coat on the rack by the door.
Angela smiled at the compliment.
"Thanks. It's nothing special, but it works." she replied, stepping into the kitchen.
Mikey leaned against the doorframe, watching her. She moved fluidly, her casual confidence making him feel strangely at ease despite the tension in the air.
