That man didn't move from in front of the door. That corridor was quiet. Sooo quiet until the sound of his own footsteps felt strange.
His hand was still touching that door. Warm.
"Olivia..."
That name slipped from his throat, almost inaudible. As if his tongue knew that name better than he knew himself. And for a moment, he looked at his hand that was already wrapped in white cloth. Clean.
That wrapped hand no longer felt painful, but instead left a warmth. His lips that had gone so long without being stretched formed a smile, a smile that felt like happiness.
Then, slowly he stepped backward but before he stepped away he stared at that door for a moment, as if not wanting to let go but his feet forced him to leave. His shadow disappeared on the floor of that dark corridor.
