The door opened and a cold air came out from the empty room. Black shoes stepped over the threshold and came to a halt on the other side. Dark eyes swept over the room. A tiny wrinkle formed between his eyebrows as his eyes settled on the book on the nightstand. The sound of slow steps and curtains dancing in the soft breeze from the window filled the room. He had never believed that he would actually come to miss her the day she was gone. It would have happened eventually. Now all that remained was a book, a pen and the faint smell of her that still lingered in the room. The book had a brown leather binding giving it an old look. Black letters shone towards him from the top of the book, forming a single word. Diary.