You fumbled with your apartment keys, irritation making you clumsy. They fell from your hand and clattered to the ground, worsening your already suckish day. Rather than pick them up you allowed your head to fall against your eggshell white door and sighed.
Working at the fast food restaurant located in the University in which you were enrolled was not your greatest idea, especially with the less than functional management (your boss had a bad habit of constantly devouring the merchandise and his frightening business partner carried a freaking pipe wherever he went). Between the long hours and your scheduled classes you were exhausted. That day had been particularly rough since your thick-browed organic chemistry teacher almost trashed the lab with his strange alchemy experiments and rush hour had lasted much longer than what the title implied. So by the time you arrived at your humble complex, you longed for nothing more than to park in your unofficially designated space and carry on to your apartment for a relaxing evening without interruption. But since life is a cruel, cruel mistress, your parking space had already been taken by nothing less than a freaking Spano (who the hell drove foreign sports cars in a college town anyway?).
You'd never seen that car before, but you weren't entirely surprised; you'd heard from your roommate and longtime friend, Ludwig, that a new foreign exchange student was moving into the flat. Initially it was a relief; the man who previously lived there was a crazy recluse who only ever poked his head out of the depths to ask if Reagan was still president. You had had high hopes for the newbie, but given that his/her car was tainting your territory with its I'm-Worth-More-Than-Every-Organ-In-Your-Body-Combined aura, you really weren't feeling the idea of making friends.
This sentiment was only strengthened when your I-hate-my-life moment was interrupted by raucous laughter and some sort of foreign music that was loud enough to echo across the lot. The door at the end of the hall-Newbie's door- had swung opened, revealing three men. The one with an irksome laugh was albino, with bright red eyes and ivory hair. He was clinging to the arm of blond guy with hair gathered into a low ponytail and eyes that screamed mischief. But more distracting than either of these obviously eccentric characters was a man with copper skin and a tangle of chocolate curls. His olive eyes closed in laughter as he led the other two out of the apartment and down the stairs. His jeans were snug in all of the right places and he wore a tight fitting black tank top that left you gawking.
Needless to say, he was kind of attractive.
But his obnoxious Spano was still in your damn parking space.
They walked right past the stupid sports car, though, and the albino and blond climbed into a black BMW before peeling out. The chocolate-haired-jackass-who-took-your-damn-spot trotted back over, noticing you for the first time.
"Hola, chica bella!"
Oh. That explained the car and nice ass. He was Spanish.
"Hello..." you greeted, suddenly unsure of yourself. About five seconds ago you were ready to chew his ass out, but now you were at a loss for words.
"So you're the new guy, right?" you blurted, stating the obvious like a freaking genius. A headache settled into your temples and you realized that his music-which you recognized now as being Spanish-was still blaring.
"Si, I am Antonio. And you are?" He leaned closer to you... too close. The pounding escalated and you recalled your previous irritation quite quickly.
"Tired," you answered, all pretenses of being polite lost. "And turn that shit down, you're not the only one living here! Which reminds me, your car is in my spot."
You had risen to your tiptoes, pressing a finger into the taller man's chest. His mouth suddenly seemed really close to yours and you were about to back away when he cleared the distance to peck you on the lips. You opened your mouth to shout at him, but he took that as an opportunity to deepen the kiss and slip his tongue in your mouth. A loud CRACK sounded as you slapped him, stumbling back in shock. The bastard stole your parking space AND THEN KISSED YOU! What the hell-
"Sorry, chica, but you are so much cuter when quiet."
"Y-you!" you stuttered, shock by the audacity of this.. this.. import! "Fuck you!" you shouted finally, having nothing else to say. Fortunately for the man, Ludwig pulled up into the parking lot before you could think of a suitable act of terrorism. The German would KILL you if he found you maiming the new neighbor, and so you turned on your heels and stalked off to your own apartment. But this was sooo not over.
Ludwig entered a few minutes later-longer than it should have taken to walk up the steps and come inside-and you met him at the door, foot tapping impatiently.
"What took you so long between the car and here?" you asked, sounding all the world like an overprotective dad. He raised an eyebrow.
"I was talking to the neighbor. His name is Antonio Carriedo and he apparently moved here from Spain. You should go say hallo," he offered, striding past you to go prepare dinner. The two of you rotated chores and it was his night to cook.
"Unfortunately, I've already met the asshole," you sighed, following after him. Ludwig gave you a sharp glance.
"Don't call him that," he reproached. "Now what happened?"
"He viciously attacked me with the insidious intent to taint my innocence."
The German scoffed while he glanced through the refrigerator in hopes of finding ingredients (you made a mental note to go grocery shopping upon seeing how empty it was).
"I doubt that," he responded after finally deciding on bratwurst. You climbed up to sit on the counter as he procured a skillet. .
"No, seriously! He kissed me!" you whined, kicking your legs as you did so. "And then he told me to shut up!" Well, those weren't his exact words, but anyway. Perverts are perverts, no matter how they are quoted.
"You do talk a lot." You kicked Ludwig and stuck your tongue out. "But I agree, that isn't acceptable if you didn't consent to it. I'll talk to him tomorrow."
"I feel as if you're completely underestimating the severity of the situation," you sighed, unhappily and only the slightest bit dramatically.
"_, it's out of my hands. If you're harassed again, I'll approach him. In the meantime you can finally take up my previous offers and start working out with me. You wouldn't be so worried if you could defend yourself."
"I can too defend myself!" you retorted, trying in vain to remember the last time you exercised. After a while of this you grudgingly conceded, "Fine. But only because our neighbor's a pervert."
A Spanish pervert.
