The clinking of mugs in the kitchen pulled her back from a restless sleep and into the dark middle of the night. Only the quiet rumble of the aircon filled the silence in her half-empty apartment.
She sat up on her bed and squinted to have a better view of the faint shadow pacing in the kitchen. “Not you again,” she sighed.
“Aren’t you a light sleeper?” A young man’s voice replied, low but light as air, barely an echo from another world. “I’ll try to keep it low for you.”
“You said that last time.”
“Would you prefer me to speak? You haven’t left your studio in almost two weeks — if I were you, I’d love to have someone to talk to.”
“Sure, why not? But just not at 3 am, please. Maybe you don’t need to sleep, but I sure do.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. See you soon,” he smirked as he vanished through the wall, leaving behind the soft clinking of mugs in the kitchen.