With her luggage trailing haphazardly behind her, Oriana trudged groggily up the small set of stairs leading to hers and Emerald's apartment.
Misery, pain and fatigue could be read clearly on her face as she dragged both her drained body and bags to the entrance. From the dim lights illuminating the insides of the house, Oriana could tell that someone was home, however, she couldn't tell who.
She stopped in front of the door for a few seconds, straining her ears in an attempt to pick up a sound—any sound, however unsettling—as an indication that there was something naughty going on in the house, because she was just too damn tired to barge into something she ought never to see.
But as she listened intently, even going as far as placing her ear against the door, only silence greeted her in response. She heaved a sigh before unlocking the door with her own set of keys, stepping inside while hoping that her eyes wouldn't be corrupted tonight.