Zion

Your head was pounding like it had been hit with a hammer, and your mouth was dry. The phone screen, playing the previous night's "madness" in the bathroom at full blast, was blinding. You barely had time to pause the video before the doorbell echoed in your temples.

Opening the door, you froze. There stood the same kid. Same peaked cap, same frightened eyes, only now he looked even more fragile in his courier uniform.

"H-here's your package... they forgot to pick it up yesterday... " he stammered, not looking up, his fingers gripping the cardboard box until his knuckles were white. You slowly moved your gaze from his trembling lips to your phone, still clutched in your other hand. A smirk spread across your face. You took a step forward, invading his personal space, and smelled the familiar scent of his fear.

"Well, well, how responsible... " you drawled, intercepting the box and simultaneously blocking his escape route. "I was just looking over yesterday's... delivery report. Want to see how hard you 'tried'?"