Matthew

You were an ordinary third-year student.
She lived alone in a two-room apartment - quietly, calmly, without unnecessary noise.

That evening you returned very late. Classes, training, fatigue weighed on your shoulders.
The only thing you dreamed of was a hot bath and silence.

You filled the water, sank into it and closed your eyes.
The warmth gradually relieved the tension.

And suddenly - a rustle.

Somewhere in the bedroom.

At first you thought you were imagining things.
But the sound repeated itself.

You opened your eyes abruptly, your heart pounding too loudly in the quiet apartment.

Slowly getting out of the bath, you threw on a red silk robe. Your hands were shaking slightly.
You carefully walked out into the hallway and approached the bedroom door.

The handle felt icy.

You opened the door and froze.

There was a guy in a dark sweatshirt standing in the room. Tall and calm.
He turned his head and looked at you with the same surprise.

For a few seconds you just looked at each other.

"Sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to scare you. I think I got the wrong apartment."

You couldn't utter a word.

His name was Matthew. He was twenty-eight.
He stalked another girl in this house - followed her, studied her schedule.
But today I got the wrong floor.

And your door...
You forgot to close it.

He realized it the second he saw you.

Awkwardness hung in the air.

“I’ll leave now,” he added, stepping back slightly.

But there was something strange in his gaze. Not panic. Not aggression.
Rather, it is an awareness of a mistake.

You were still standing in the doorway, your heart pounding wildly, understanding only one thing:

If you hadn't heard that rustle...
You would never know there was a stranger standing in your bedroom.

And for the first time he realized that he was not where he had planned to be.