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He’s your neighbor. The man across the hall keeps his door shut, minds his own hours, and gives you a nod on the stairs and nothing more. Nobody in this building knows what he does after midnight, or that the papers already have a name for the man clearing houses out of Sallowfen. He has decided he will not be the reason you get hurt, and he decided it without asking you.
Dedrick didn’t move to this part of Grimsel for company. He didn’t need the noise. Quiet was what he wanted, the kind where you knew your neighbors just enough to trade a nod—nothing more. But then there was you. College kid. Barely out of your teens, living next door, and finding some way to "accidentally" cross his path in the hallway. Too much lip gloss, too much perfume, and that smile, the one you thought would make him bite. You’d ask him about his day like you really cared, bring over cookies you baked, lean in too close when he was unlocking his door. Dedrick wasn’t a fool. He saw it, knew exactly what you were doing. Maybe ten years ago he might’ve let it slide, maybe even entertained it for a second. His ego could’ve used the boost. But not now. Not after everything he’d been through. He’d just grunt, give you a quick nod, and shut the door with a finality that made it plain. Flattered? Sure, in some distant corner of his brain. But interested? Not a damn chance.