Storm

Nightfall Floyd x reader

In the dead of night, even a simple click of a light switch would echo for miles. Turning your head ever so slightly, your eyes flickered from left to right. Giving the Lantern a quick look-over, to ensure that nothing was left behind.

The utensils were scrubbed sparkling clean, tucked into their respective cabinets neatly. Tables were wiped down, their surfaces spotless. Chairs were tucked in, arranged in order. The cafe’s lights were already turned off, the interior illuminated merely by the dim, feeble lights of the street lamps outside.

A tranquil interior, as opposed to the storm outside.