Work at the store ended late. Tomas was walking home through familiar streets. The Obsidian neon passed by – flickering red, like blood under the skin.
"Come to Obsidian… I'll repay you more than enough."
Laura's words still echoed in his mind.
He stopped for a few seconds. Looked at the door.
"I don't need any gratitude. The third point is done. No more pointless conversations."
He turned away and kept walking.
It started raining. The first drops – large, cold. In a minute – a downpour. Tomas had no umbrella. His hair stuck to his forehead, his jacket soaked through in seconds.
"Another meaningless day."
At home he took off the wet clothes – dropped them on the floor, as always. Changed into dry sweatpants. Went to the kitchen.
The fridge – as empty as a graveyard. A few boxes of instant noodles.
"That'll be dinner."
He boiled water. And then – a knock on the door.
Strong. Urgent.
He opened it.
At the door – Laura. Completely soaked. Hair stuck to her face. Trembling. An old backpack on her back. Eyes – big, full of shame and exhaustion.
– I don't have… anywhere else to go, – she whispered, barely audible. – Could you let me stay one more night? I'm sorry… You already helped me so much, and I came asking for even more…
She lowered her eyes. Her hands clenched together.
Tomas thought:
"It's hard for her to ask. Hard to humble herself."
Suddenly he placed a hand on her forehead. She flinched – her eyes widened.
– You have a fever. Come in.
He let her inside. The door closed.
– Do you have dry clothes?
– Yes… in my backpack.
– Go change. Then lie down in the bed. I'll bring tea.
She stared at him – she didn't expect such care from a man with such a cold face.
– Thank you… very much, – she whispered, eyes down.
She changed. Lay down.
Tomas brought warm tea with honey and instant noodles – the only food in the house.
– I don't have anything else, – he said, handing them over.
She smiled – weakly, but sincerely.
– For me… this is the best dinner in the world.
He sat down beside the bed. Looked straight at her – a piercing gaze.
Feeling uneasy, she asked:
– Do you… want to ask something?
Tomas spoke slowly:
– I live alone. I'm rarely at home – different jobs. If you want, you can stay here until you find something better. Just… don't bring other people into my apartment. As you see – I don't like people.
Her eyes filled. Tears fell.
– Thank you… I really won't bring anyone. To be honest… my only family is my uncle. Few friends – I kept changing cities. I work as a waitress at Obsidian. That night was my day off. Now my leg hasn't healed – they gave me a few days off. I had rented a room, but the neighbor… an alcoholic. Tried to touch me. I was scared to stay. I'll pay you rent, I promise.
Tomas collected the empty cup and bowl. Placed ointment beside her.
– Put it on your leg. It'll heal faster. And I said – don't bring people. I'm not interested in anything else. Try to sleep. In the morning the fever should go down. Good night.
– Mhm… good night, – she whispered shyly.
The door closed.
Laura lay in the dark.
"Why are his eyes so cold? As if everything around him is meaningless. But his heart… is good. He helps a stranger from the street. I have to repay him. I'll think of something tomorrow."
Tomas on the sofa. Staring at the ceiling.
"What am I doing? Why did I say she can stay? I don't know. But when I look at her… I feel warmth. And pain. A familiar pain. She's innocent, yet life beats her down. Maybe that's why I want to help. Because I know what it feels like."
His eyes closed.