A/N: I was initially going to make this a one-shot but I think I'll be adding a few chapters. I'm curious to see where I'll be taking this fic.
Day Two
Prompt #185 — Regina and Robin are neighbors who can't stand each other.
Being a single, working mother was tough.
Being a single, working mother who lived next to a rowdy neighbor was even worse.
Life wasn't always a living hell for Regina Mills. In fact, up until last month, things were almost faultless. She had the perfect routine set up for her and her two-year-old son, Henry.
She'd wake up at six in the morning and run on the treadmill for a good half an hour, then into the steaming shower she would go before waking her boy at around seven. They'd eat breakfast and chat a little, even though his sentences were incoherent, she'd humor him over her first cup of coffee and his cup of milk. Once done, she would dress him, and while she's off getting ready for work, he'd entertain himself with some cartoons. By eight, they'd be out of the door. She would drop him off at the daycare her childhood friend ran and head to work, then pick him up on her way home at four-thirty in the afternoon. If needed, they'd stop for groceries, if not, they'd go straight home and start working on dinner. The remainder of their evening depended on Henry's energy. If the boy was too tired, he'd crash in the middle whatever movie they'd have playing, if he wasn't, it'd be at eight-thirty after reading a bedtime story or two, only then would she relax with an occasional glass of wine and a book in hand, reading her own not-so-kid-friendly novels.
Unfortunately, that schedule she had in place was ruined the day their neighbor moved in.
While she'd never seen him, she wasn't sure she'd recognize him even if she did with the amount of people walking in and out of his apartment everyday. Who could possibly afford throwing a party almost every single night? It was inane. But, judging by the loud music blasting through that not-so-thick walls separating their apartments and keeping her and her son awake, he was more than capable.
She ignored it the first week it happened. It was his new home and people celebrated those milestones differently. But by the middle of the second, it became too much. Henry couldn't sleep because of the noise, and when Henry couldn't sleep, she couldn't sleep. No sleep meant waking up behind schedule and that meant giving up her daily treadmill run because cutting it short just wouldn't do. It was affecting her son just as much, though. She wasn't the only one waking up frustrated and in a sour mood, but Henry, too. He would fuss and cry, and it was so unusual for her happy, always smiling baby boy. There was no greeting her with kisses and cuddles before starting their morning routine anymore, and she hated it. She fucking hated it. And that fucking new neighbor of hers and his lack of respect to the people around him.
Maybe it was childish of her to take it straight to the landlady rather than try to resolve everything with the man first, but she'd been getting little to no sleep and busting her ass off at work, her boss piling up paperworks atop of paperworks for her to look through, so her patience was nonexistent. The last straw was the moaning the thin walls did a terrible job at shutting out, waking her up far too early in the morning.
Yes, sex was good, and she was sure he was good at it, too—great, even, if the woman screaming and begging for more was any indication to it, but good god, enough was enough.
But just like the broken sink and the hole in the wall, the landlady, Ella de Vil, did nothing about it. It was on Regina, though. She should've known better because talking to Ella was like talking to a brick wall. A goddamn waste of time.
"Yes, yes, darling. I'll talk to Mister Locksley about keeping it down for you," Ella promised, but it'd been two weeks since and nothing was done. The parties still went on till dawn and the moaning seemed to get louder and louder every time.
She would have to talk to him herself, it seemed, and she will, just as soon as she's back from doing her Christmas shopping.
"Henry, come on. Let's go, sweetheart, we're gonna be late!" Regina called out, balancing herself against the door as she hastily slipped on a pair of high heels, something she knew she'd sorely regret after a few hours of walking around. But with beauty came pain, and she learned as a teen to suck it up. Besides, a blister was nothing compared to the pain she'd been through pushing an almost nine pounds baby out of her. God, that was a nightmare. She was sure she was ruined.
"Okay, Mommy!"
But it was worth it. Hearing that word, it was worth everything she'd been through.
"All done!" Henry announced, throwing his arms up in triumph as he toddled toward her with a grin.
Five months shy of being a three-year-old and he still couldn't seem to walk steadily on those little legs of his. It was normal, the doctor told her so himself. There was nothing wrong with him or his legs. He was simply an enthusiastic boy who'd lose his balance in the midst of his excitement. In other words, her son was clumsy.
All the layers of clothes he was wearing wasn't helping his case either.
For once, she decided to let him dress himself. It was good, it would build his character, she was told. Build it or wreck it, though? He looked ridiculous. Who on earth would wear a pair of jeans under khaki shorts because it was too cold for the shorts alone but he really liked them and, not one, but two tee shirts because he couldn't decide if he wanted to be Superman or Spiderman this time around. Of course, there was the star of the show, the inside-out jacket he wore, can't forget that one.
Regina laughed, because what else was there for her to do other than laugh?
"You really wanna go out looking like this?" she asked, brows rising to her hairline, and at Henry's little frown, she lowered herself to his level and cupped his chin, her other hand brushing his chestnut brown hair away from his face. "You look very handsome, sweetheart. Mommy just meant it's a little too much, don't you think?"
The boy pressed his lips together then shrugged, mumbling a little, "I don't know," under his breath.
"Well, if you're comfortable, I don't see why you can't go out like this," she said, knowing well he wasn't and it was just a matter of minutes before he'd start getting fussy over all the layers of clothing preventing him from moving as freely as he'd like. She removed his jacket, flipped it over to the right side before helping him get it on again. "Alright, go get the shoes you wanna wear."
Just as expected, he returned with something equally as unique as the rest of his outfit—his pair of green rain boots.
Deciding to save her breath and time, she helped him slip them on without arguing about it. Silently judging his every pick would only end up holding them back. It was just a couple of weeks away from Christmas, the shops would be swarmed, so the sooner they were out of the door, the better.
That was the plan anyways, until she opened the door to a stranger standing in front of it, his fist risen, ready to knock, and beside him was his mutt, excitedly wiggling in his place even after his owner quietly commanded him to sit. Her son wasn't any better, practically vibrating in the spot with excitement over seeing the dog.
"Yes?" she urged when the strange man stared on without uttering a single word. "How may I help you?"
"I—I'm your neighbor," he introduced, motioning toward the door on his right side. "My name's—"
"Will," she cut him off with a bite to her tone, her brows pinched together in anger. Did he really think she wouldn't recognize who the infamous party animal was? They couldn't sleep because of that damn fool. "Yes, I'm very well aware of who you are, Mister Locksley. Trust me, the women you bring home every night did a marvelous job reminding me of it."
"I—"
"Now, if you'll excuse me, we're running late. No thanks to a certain someone," she murmured, brushing past him with Henry in tow.
"Bye-bye, puppy!" Henry exclaimed with a giggle, waving at the dog as she dragged him away.
The nerve with that man, knocking on her door after the hell he'd put her through for the past month.
"Where's the sugar?"
Robin recovered from his daze with a hum and looked at his half-brother, Will. It took him a moment to wrap his head around the simple question—right, the sugar. That was why he went knocking on the neighbor's door, to ask for some sugar and ended up being yelled at instead.
"I haven't got any."
"What—how are we supposed to have the bloody tea now?" Will huffed, flopping down on the couch with a childish scowl on his face. "I already put the kettle on."
"Maybe if you stopped inviting your friends over every other night, we'd actually have some food in the apartment—are they even your friends?" Robin asked. They sure didn't seem like it, not when half of them referred to Will as Walsh. "Knock it off with those parties, too, or I'm kicking you out. The neighbors are starting to grow tired of that." And so was he. It was exhausting. All the music, the loud voices, and those godawful, traumatizing moans. The last thing he needed was to hear his own brother having sex.
"What neighbors?" Will scoffed. "We live next to one neighbor and they've never complained. The only one complaining is you, brother."
"And you're waiting for her to complain?"
"It's a her?" Will perked up, a menacing smile stretching across his face.
He knew that look all too well, and he knew his brother enough to know he'd never be involved with a single mother.
"She's not your type," Robin said. "She's got a son."
"Shame," Will mumbled. "Is she beautiful?"
Stunning. All he had was a moment to look at her, truly look at her before she began complaining about the noises coming from his apartment, and that moment was all he needed. Brief seconds and he couldn't get her captivating, mahogany brown eyes out of his mind. Shoulder-length, raven hair framing her face and, God, did the color red look staggering on her olive skin.
"Nope."
"Hideous?"
"Very," Robin lied with a nod. "She's horrendous. Trust me, you should consider yourself lucky you haven't seen her yet."
"Good heavens…" Will whispered. "Is she as ugly as Miss Tremaine, you know, the old hag that used to live across the street from us when we were kids?"
Robin bobbed his head in confirmation again, the guilt of calling anyone unattractive gnawing at him, but he chose to lie. For whatever reason, he chose to claim their neighbor was ugly and he wasn't even sure why. "Yeah, worse," he whispered.
