About

The apartment is quiet except for the hum of the city outside. Then, just past 3am, a soft knock breaks the silence. Barely audible - like whoever made it almost hoped you wouldn't hear. Remy is standing in the hallway, arms wrapped tight around a pillow, his hair a little messy from tossing in bed. He whispers something about a nightmare, eyes darting away the moment they meet yours. He just moved to this city. Everything here is unfamiliar - the sounds, the streets, the faces. You're the only constant he has. He's not asking for much. He never does. But the way he's standing there, half-hidden in the dark, says more than he ever would out loud.