The hallway remained frozen for a few more seconds.
A total silence. Not just sound… almost physical. As if even the air had slowed down.
Then, slowly, the landlord slipped his phone back into his pocket as if nothing important had just happened.
The fabric brushing against his hand was the only real sound in that suspended moment.
— It's settled.
His voice had returned to normal. Almost cold.
But his jaw was slightly tense. A subtle reflex. The habit of someone who too often holds back what he truly thinks.
He gave one last look at the man, then at the girl.
His gaze lingered a fraction too long… as if he were still analyzing the scene without saying it.
— Two months. Don't forget.
A faint smile crossed his face, without warmth.
An automatic smile. Worn out. Almost mechanical.
Behind it was a deep fatigue… the kind that comes from counting every delay, every excuse, every unkept promise.
And somewhere too, an old anger.
Not explosive.
But slowly accumulating.
— And I hope it's worth it.
He stepped back.
The sound of his shoe against the floor echoed louder than expected in the now overly silent hallway.
Then another step.
And without waiting for a response, he turned away and began walking down the corridor, his footsteps echoing against the silent walls.
Each step moved farther away… but the silence stayed behind, clinging to them.
The neighbors, behind their doors, remained still for a moment… then, little by little, the gazes disappeared. The doors closed softly.
A click. Then another.
As if the hallway was finally exhaling.
The corridor became almost empty again.
Almost.
Only two remained.
The girl and the man.
Face to face.
The silence now was no longer threatening.
It was something different.
Heavier still.
A silence where every breath felt too loud.
Because there was no one left to speak for them.
The girl finally lowered her eyes.
A slow movement. Almost hesitant.
Her fingers slowly left the doorknob.
They were a little cold.
She only realized it afterward.
As if her body was finally coming back down.
But inside, nothing had truly calmed.
Her heart was still beating too fast.
Too loud.
boom… boom…
She inhaled softly.
The air seemed to catch in her throat before fully entering.
— Why…?
The word came out without her really controlling it.
Fragile.
Almost broken.
She lifted her eyes slightly toward him.
But her voice almost immediately cracked again.
— Why did you do that?
She felt her own voice sound foreign to her.
Too close.
Too honest.
The man stayed silent for a moment.
His breathing subtly changed. Slower. As if he was trying to steady himself.
As if he had only just realized he was still there.
As if he could still step back.
But he didn't move.
His hands tightened slightly, then slowly relaxed.
A small movement, almost invisible.
He wasn't used to this kind of situation.
Even less to being looked at like that.
— I don't know.
His answer was simple.
Too simple.
But his voice had hesitated slightly before coming out.
A new silence settled.
The girl blinked.
Her breathing was uneven.
— You don't know… but you still paid?
Her fingers trembled slightly against her arm.
The man looked away slightly, toward the now empty corridor.
As if searching for an escape in the void.
— I didn't think.
He paused.
A micro-hesitation.
Then added, quieter:
— I just… reacted.
The words hung between them.
Reacted.
The word felt too light for what he had just done.
The girl gently wrapped her arms around herself.
She realized she was holding her breath.
She slowly let it out.
As if she was rediscovering that she could breathe.
— You don't even know me…
That sentence wasn't a reproach.
But her throat tightened as she said it.
A strange statement.
Almost painful.
The man looked at her again.
This time longer.
His gaze was steady… but inside, something seemed to shift.
A short thought.
I know.
Then another.
And yet…
— Yes.
A silence.
Very short.
Very heavy.
— But I saw what I needed to see.
She frowned slightly, not understanding.
But she felt something in her chest tighten.
A tension she couldn't name.
He didn't elaborate.
Not yet.
A distant sound of footsteps echoed through the building.
Light.
Then gone.
Somewhere, a door closed.
Life resumed elsewhere.
But here, in this hallway, the air still felt frozen.
As if time refused to fully move forward again.
The man stepped back.
Then another step.
His shoes brushed softly against the floor.
As if testing the return to reality.
— I have to go.
His voice was lower now.
More closed.
Almost as if he were speaking to himself.
The girl didn't answer immediately.
She kept looking at him.
Staring.
Without fully understanding why her gaze refused to let his go.
Then, almost in a whisper:
— Wait…
He stopped.
His body halted before he even decided to.
Without fully turning around.
Just enough to listen.
She hesitated.
Long.
Her heart was still pounding.
She felt it in her temples.
Then:
— My name is Aïcha.
A silence.
Different this time.
Less crushing.
But deeper.
The man stayed still for a second.
Something passed through his mind.
A simple thought.
Now… she's not just a stranger anymore.
Then he slightly nodded.
— Okay.
And he left.
His footsteps faded down the corridor.
One by one.
Then disappeared.
But the sound still seemed to linger in her ears.
The girl stood alone in front of her door.
Her shoulders slightly lowered.
She gently placed her hand on her chest.
Her heart was still racing.
But this time… it wasn't just stress.
It was something more confusing.
Deeper.
And at the end of the corridor—
the landlord, already farther away, had stopped for a second.
A slow breath.
He briefly closed his eyes.
Same as always…
Then another thought, sharper.
But this time… it was different.
He resumed walking.
And as he disappeared into the darker part of the hallway—
he glanced back one last time.
Long.
Unintentional.
As if something inside him was not entirely satisfied with what he had just done.
Then he murmured, almost to himself:
— This kind of decision… always ends up costing something.
And what he didn't know yet—
was that even the silence of this hallway… had just changed its weight.