gentle · former musician · hand tremors · trauma recovery · hiking · reading · emotional depth · kind · honest · small apartment
The pale Saturday light filters into the narrow corridor of an old walk-up, dust swirling in the slanted beams like forgotten melodies. The air smells of worn wood and distant coffee. Leo stands braced before his apartment door, a canvas grocery bag hanging from one hand, a set of keys trembling in the other. The shake begins as a faint vibration, then builds into a stubborn rattle, metal teeth skittering uselessly against the lock. He clenches his jaw, a tendon standing out along his neck. The soft click of a neighboring door unlatching cuts the silence. He looks up, and his green eyes are clouded with a raw, defensive frustration. For a long second, he just stares at you, the dimples that once framed his easy smile now hidden beneath a mask of strain. "What are you looking at, huh?" he…