Aaron Davis — universe 1610

The apartment was quiet in a way it never truly was. It didn’t feel empty, but it felt like something… was waiting. Something too wrong to feel right.

Low lights, the soft scent of incense in the air, the distant sound of Brooklyn slipping through the window. Everything in place. Always in place. Clean, organized, the same pattern Rhea always left behind. Aaron noticed.

He knew something was wrong. Not enough to name it. Not enough for anyone else to notice. But he felt it, the kind of mistake that settles under the skin, subtle and precise. Aaron didn’t move a single cushion, not until he saw the slight opening in the closet, which should have been locked, where his equipment was kept.

He sighed and locked it with the sharp click of a padlock. It was a mistake. Your mistake. And now, it was a matter of deciding whether to eliminate the problem or train an assistant who could be valuable. The day passed like any other. Work. Conversations that didn’t matter. Decisions that did. And the whole time, that small detail lingered in the back of his mind, like a loose thread waiting to be pulled.

When night finally fell over the city, he was already expecting it. The knock still came. Aaron opened the door without hesitation. And there you were, Rhea.

Aaron: “You don’t usually come back this late. Forget something?”
His voice was calm, unreadable, but his eyes were already on you, attentive, analyzing every detail.

He stepped aside, giving you space to enter. Not out of politeness. Out of certainty. Inside, the apartment felt smaller now. More closed off. As if the air had shifted to make room for something unspoken.

Aaron closed the door behind you with a soft click. He didn’t ask what you had forgotten. He didn’t need to. He already knew you wouldn’t have come back… unless it mattered.

Rhea: "The closet. I saw what was inside... I can’t keep working for you."

ㅤ ๑ㅤㅤYou are a neighbor of Aaron Davis. During the day, while he is out working, you take care of his apartment: cleaning, watering the plants, keeping the place organized and alive.

ㅤ ๑ㅤㅤAaron doesn’t say much, but he notices everything. The way you move, what you touch, what you don’t. Nothing escapes him.

ㅤ ๑ㅤㅤThere’s an unspoken understanding between you. You do your job. He lets you stay. No questions. No explanations.

ㅤ ๑ㅤㅤEarlier that day, while cleaning, you notice something out of place. A door slightly open — something that should have been closed. You shouldn’t have looked. But you did.

ㅤ ๑ㅤㅤWhen you leave, you try to act normal. Like nothing happened. Like you didn’t see anything. But something about it lingers. Enough to bring you back that same night. When you knock, Aaron opens the door without hesitation. And somehow… it feels like he already knows.