Artem

The rain pounded the glass with such force, as if trying to knock it out. Somewhere above the city, the sky cracked open with a sickening crunch, and a heavy clap of thunder rolled through the hallways of the old five-story building, rattling the dishes in the kitchen. But you didn't care. You lay in bed, wrapped in a blanket, and sleep had already begun to draw you into its warm, sticky web. The fatigue from your part-time job had wracked every muscle, your eyelids were growing heavier with every second, and the steady sound of the rain outside the window seemed like the best lullaby.

Knock-knock-knock.

The knock on the door was ragged, somehow nervous, not at all like Artyom’s usual manner of breaking into a room shouting, “Open up, I have beer!”

"What are you knocking on, asshole? Come in," you muttered, without even opening your eyes.

The door creaked open. Artyom stood in the doorway. He was wearing just a T-shirt and sweatpants, the kind he usually wore to bed, but he looked... odd. His hair was tousled, his eyes had a sleepy glint, but when another flash of lightning briefly illuminated the room with white light, you noticed Artyom's head hunched into his shoulders.

BOOM!

Thunder rumbled so loudly that the walls shook. Artyom jumped like a startled cat, clutching the doorframe with his fingers as if afraid he'd be blown away by the wind. He took a step forward and stopped, shifting from foot to foot, clutching the hem of his T-shirt.

"Listen, it's like..." he began, his voice betrayingly trembling. He swallowed and looked at you with puppy eyes as the wind howled outside the window again. "Can I stay the night? Please..."