Three knocks on the door. And then a fourth, and a fifth.
The blonde young man walked across the hardwood floor as a sixth knock came. He twisted the rusted doorknob and pulled. Scanning the empty air for a long moment, his brows slightly crinkled, when a quiet clear of the throat pulled his gaze downward.
A small brunette boy that couldn't have been older than ten stood on the porch with a pale green backpack. A warm smile lit his soft face making him appear even younger.
"Hi," the boy greeted enthusiastically. "Are you Felix?"
The blonde merely shook his head.
"I'm afraid you have the wrong person," he murmured, stepping back to shut the door.
"Wait!" The boy quickly cut in, placing his hand out.
The blonde pulled the door back open, one eyebrow cocking slightly.
"Let me try that again," the boy insisted, his smile back in place.
He pulled his backpack around and began fishing through it. He finally tugged out a worn, leather book and flipped it open. He thumbed through the pages before finally landing on the one he wanted. He turned the book around and held it up for the older boy to see.
On the right page was a picture of a blonde young man that looked very much like the older male himself gazing into the eyes of another young man clad in green with a soft smirk on his face.
For a very brief second, the young boy could have sworn he saw a flash go through the older male's pale eyes but it was so brief that it was quickly replaced by an emotionless stare once again.
"As I said," the blonde spoke quietly as he straightened back up. "You have the wrong person."
With that, he turned, shutting the door firmly behind him and locking it.