Nika Noir Dorm =link= -

Outside, someone laughed — bright, careless. Inside, the radiator hissed a secret. Nika closed her eyes and let the darkness settle over her like a coat that fit perfectly, even if it had never belonged to anyone else.

The bed was a crime scene of tangled sheets and unresolved thoughts. A single desk lamp with a torn shade cast long, accusing shadows across the floor. In the corner, a vinyl record spun silent — the needle lifted, but the ghost of Billie Holiday still hung in the air, wondering where all the good men had gone. nika noir dorm

Nika lit a cigarette she didn’t inhale, watched the smoke curl toward a water-stained ceiling. “Everyone does,” she said. “Most just decorate better.” Outside, someone laughed — bright, careless