Vancouver greeted Leo with rain. Nothing dramatic just that constant, steady drizzle that felt like it had started long before he arrived and planned to keep going long after.
The city wasn't making a scene; it just... was. One of those truths about a place you sense before you even show up.
He waited outside the station, bag at his feet, watching the rain for a second. Then he found his address on his phone and started walking.
The run-down student housing sat about fifteen minutes from campus, tucked on a quiet street.
Four floors. Hallways that smelled like old floorboards and radiators that had been around forever.
His room was up on the third floor small, with a window over the courtyard.
Someone had left a bike down there, unlocked, which meant either nobody worried, or nobody cared.
He had a desk, a wardrobe, a single bed. The mattress was unfamiliar, like it would need a week before it stopped feeling like a stranger.
He dropped his bag.
