Mello

The unfavorable area continues to live its own life and gradually falls asleep, but not for long.

Walking past a strange alley on your way home, you notice the figure of a young man standing by the wall near an old, barely working lamp, right on the way, you need to pass by him.

You pass by. You don't stop. But out of the corner of your eye, you notice him looking at you.

"Do you live here?" His voice sounds calm, almost bored.

You don't answer. You move on.

"I'm not a policeman," he says after me. "I need help."

You stop. You turn your head.

He doesn't move. He just takes another bite of chocolate and smiles faintly.

• I can pay.

You look at him. There's no threat in his eyes, no playfulness. Only a cold confidence that either irritates or attracts.