CRAVES

THE MAN BEHIND THE DOOR

Morning slipped quietly into noon.

The men outside never moved. Not once.

By midday, Mrs. Alvarez opened her apartment door with a grocery bag balanced against her hip. She paused. Looked at the two men. Looked again.

"...You're still here?"

Neither answered.

She narrowed her eyes. "Well..." She pushed past them. "You're blocking the hallway."

The taller of the two stepped aside without a word.

She sniffed. "Good."

A few minutes later, she knocked on Amelia's door. This time, Amelia opened it immediately.

Mrs. Alvarez leaned in, lowering her voice. "Sweetheart..." She nodded toward the hallway. "...Should I call the police?"

Amelia glanced at Bryan. He remained beside the window. "No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

The older woman's eyes drifted toward Bryan. She studied him for several seconds. "You don't look dangerous." She smiled warmly. "But appearances have fooled me before."

Bryan inclined his head politely. "They often do."

Mrs. Alvarez blinked. "...You're very well spoken."

He offered no reply.

She looked between the two of them one last time before patting Amelia's hand. "If you need anything..."

"I know."

"You knock."

"I will."

The old woman disappeared down the corridor. The apartment fell quiet again.

Bryan reached for his coat.

Amelia looked up from the sofa. "You're leaving."

"Yes."

"You shouldn't."

He paused. "My staying here places you in danger."

She frowned. "Those men haven't done anything."

"They won't."

"Then why am I in danger?"

He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he crossed toward the front door and unlocked it.

The two men outside straightened instantly. Their heads bowed.

"Your Grace."

Bryan stepped into the hallway. The apartment suddenly felt colder. Amelia stood. She couldn't explain why. Only that something inside her urged her toward the open doorway.

The hallway remained silent. The men never lifted their eyes.

Bryan's voice carried softly through the corridor. "Return."

Neither moved.

"Our orders..."

"I know your orders."

"I've changed them."

Another pause. Finally, the taller man raised his head. His expression remained perfectly composed. "We cannot accept new orders until the council confirms your condition."

Bryan's gaze settled on him. Cold. Unmoving.

"You doubt my judgment?"

"No, Your Grace."

"You doubt my authority?"

"Never."

"Then why are you still here?"

The man lowered his head once more. "We fear for your life."

The words hung heavily in the air. Bryan looked past them. The second sedan still waited below. More guards remained outside the building. Watching. Waiting.

He sighed almost inaudibly. "You've frightened the residents."

"Our apologies."

"You've embarrassed my host."

"And you've interrupted her morning."

The taller guard finally looked toward Amelia. Only briefly. Respectfully.

"My apologies, Miss."

Amelia blinked. "No... it's alright."

Bryan's eyes returned to the guard. "You've apologized."

"Yes."

"You've seen me."

"Yes."

"Then leave."

This time, the guard nodded. "Understood." He turned. The others followed immediately. No hesitation. No questions. Within seconds, footsteps echoed down the staircase. A minute later, the engines outside started. One by one, the black sedans disappeared around the corner.

The street returned to normal. Children chased a football across the pavement. A delivery truck drove past. Someone laughed from a nearby café. As though nothing unusual had happened.

Bryan closed the apartment door. The click of the lock sounded louder than before.

Amelia folded her arms. "They listen to you."

"Usually."

"'Usually'?"

A faint shadow crossed his face. "Today was slower than usual."

She stared. "They surrounded an apartment building."

"Yes."

"They waited outside your door."

"Yes."

"They called you..." She hesitated. "...Your Grace."

"Yes."

"And you're saying they were slow?"

A silence followed. Then, the smallest smile touched Bryan's mouth. Barely there. Almost reluctant.

Amelia laughed. "I don't understand you at all."

"I know."

She shook her head. "You know..." She walked past him into the kitchen. "...most people would've introduced themselves by now."

Bryan remained where he was. "I suppose they would."

She filled the kettle. "So..." She looked over her shoulder. "...what should I call you?"

He answered without hesitation. "Bryan."

She repeated it quietly. Testing the sound. "...Bryan." It suited him. Simple. Unexpectedly ordinary. She smiled. "I'm Amelia."

"I know."

"I never told you."

"No."

She frowned. "Then how..."

Bryan looked toward the photographs lining the shelf. One frame sat slightly apart from the others. A birthday picture. Candles. Cake. A handwritten card. _Happy Birthday, Amelia._

She followed his gaze. "...You noticed."

"I notice everything."

The kettle began to whistle.

Outside... far beyond the apartment... a pair of crimson eyes watched the building from the rooftop across the street. Hidden beneath the shadow of a crumbling chimney.

A slow smile spread across unfamiliar lips.

"So..." The voice disappeared into the wind.

"...the king has finally found something worth staying for."