i. the very first time
He sighed heavily as he pushed the heavy, and huge, box through the hall. It had not been a very good day for Lucas, to say the least. He had just shifted to his new apartment and no, he loved it. It had a great neighborhood, an even better view and his clinic wasn't very far away from the place. His apartment was warm and simple, just the way he liked. The only problem was that the movers he had called for were hella lazy and clumsy. They had brought the truck an hour late, dropped a few boxes on the way up to his floor and no, they were using elevators and still managed to do that. If that wasn't bad enough, they left a rock sized box outside apartment building and, purposely or not, forgot it right there.
He had been pushing that thing for the past twenty minutes, trying to get it into his apartment and when he got near his apartment door, he was exhausted. It had taken all his power and he cursed all the junk food he had had the past month.
He stopped, relieved that he had managed to get near the door and kept his hands on his waist whilst breathing heavily.
His mind had been wavering off to various things, specifically to the appointment with the poodle, Murphy and her super paranoid owner, Suzanne that he had to miss because of the delay. He was so doomed Suzanna had managed to get an appointment the next day.
Suddenly, he felt something near his right foot and he looked down. It was a paint brush, a very dirty one, covered with red paint and almost abruptly a hand came into the picture, a very dirtier one than the brush with paint stains all over it. He drew the obvious connection pretty quickly and looked up. But before he could see the person with the tiny stained hand, she was already on her way back inside her apartment.
The girl had feisty blonde hair that had been covering her whole face while she hastily picked up her brush, mumbling something like,
"I'm so sorry."
He hadn't been able to see her face behind those messy hairs but he remembered her petite form. She was short and would probably only come up to his shoulder, at most. She was wearing some sort of a baggy sweater that was huge for her size but because she was wearing only the sweater, he had been able to see her slender legs. He should've been mad at himself for staring but because his encounter with the mysteriously beautiful woman had been for such a short time, he couldn't really stare.
She was mysterious, messy and cute. Cute in an amusing but dainty kind of way.
It was only a matter of seconds but his heart had raced just a bit and he hadn't even seen her face but he was pretty sure that at that moment, there was nothing in the world that he was yearning to see more.
ii. drunk and sloppy giggles
It had been a week in the new apartment and all was going perfectly well except for one tiny thing. He would usually come back home by six in the evening and every time he would reach two steps away from his door, he would look at the door across his and he would stare. Only he knew, how much the figure behind that door intrigued him.
He hadn't been able to talk to her the whole week because every time he came home, her door would be shut and he had no reason to knock and talk to her. Well, he could always go and start the 'friendly new neighbour' conversation but considering that she already had seen him and rushed off without bothering to start a conversation, he had decided otherwise.
It was weird.
It was weir that he could miss her at the most random moments. Moments like when he would spot any blonde women around him or when he'd hear the word 'sorry' or when he'd see off-white baggy sweaters or brushes or just red colour, his mind would race back to the cryptic beauty.
It had happened again for no real reason this time. He was pretty sure it was past midnight and he just couldn't sleep. It was almost like that woman who was probably oblivious of his distorted thought, was haunting him.
… and then it happened.
He heard footsteps outside his apartment, clumsy ones and for some reason, he was sure it was her. The sound of jingling keys followed and then followed a series of drunk and sloppy giggles. He sat up on his bed after hearing what seemed like a melody to his ears, not being able to contain himself.
With what he heard, he figured that she was drunk and was trying to unlock her door and failing miserably at that since he heard the keys fall down on the ground thrice.
His mind slightly pondered over the idea of going outside and helping her but he heard her say,
"Chill, Riles I'll be okay."
And he heard the door click open and he felt slight disappointment that she had been able to get in through the door which also meant, that he couldn't go and talk to her now.
With that thought, he laid back down and released the pillow, he didn't realise he was hugging.
The giggles stayed with him all night and he couldn't sleep properly, drifting in and out of sleep.
They were angelic and he now knew, more than he did before, that so was she.
iii. ajar doors
This time it was a week and a half since he last saw or heard her and it killed him. He knew that he could go and talk to her about anything in the world but he couldn't bring himself to do that.
Everyday he'd come from work and there would be no sign of her and another disappointment would add to his dungeon of disappointment that just seemed to grow and grow in these past days.
It had been a tiring day at work, with Suzanne having an hour long appointment with him and all he wanted to do was sleep in the comforts of his bed.
But fate had better plans.
As he walked over to his apartment and like every day, turned to look at hers, his eyes went wide and he froze.
The door was ajar.
The door was ajar.
Ajar enough to give him a view of the inside of her humble aboard if he went closer. And so he did. Her apartment was exactly like his except that hers had a delicate scent of jasmine floating. He closed his eyes for a moment taking it in and when he opened them, he paintings. Lots of them. They were placed nicely, some on the walls and some on the corners but all of them were just as different as the other. They were colourful and very professional, with precise strokes and intricate designs.
… and then he saw her.
A tiny figure with milky white skin, sitting on the ground, in front of a blank canvas, wearing a blue tank top and a wad on her head. It was nothing extraordinarily glamorous, except it was.
Time stopped and he felt numb. He didn't what was happening but he almost lost control over his body. His hands shivered and the keys dropped. A jolt of realisation went through his body and he caught the keys before they touched the ground. Man, did those baseball practices al throughout school, paid off.
He looked up and he saw her moving and he was suddenly scared. He couldn't really place what he was scared off but he just was. He quickly turned around, unlocked his door, went in, shut it loudly and stood behind it, panting. He didn't look back and maybe his action was reflex but considering the extremely loud thud of his door, it didn't take a genius to figure out that it was him creepily prying on his neighbor.
He could've talked to her if he stood there and not run off like a thief but his body wasn't controlled and coordinated enough to face her.
iv. fourth time's the charm?
He was a chicken.
He was.
He admitted it.
Even after a month of staying next door to an apparently gorgeous women, once-a-high-school-stud Lucas Friar, couldn't talk to her.
He had given up and left it completely over destiny to make them meet somehow. And even though he wasn't a believer of destiny, it did work for some people and at that moment, he really wished he was one.
Another day, another glance at the closed door and another sigh.
But as he turned, he saw a brush. The same brush he saw a month back, except it was covering with a mixture of purple and grey paints this time. He bent down and picked it up. And as held it, he almost felt as if he had touched her.
He couldn't keep it since it was possibly important to her… so he had to return it.
What would he say to her? He didn't know.
What was he going to do? He did know.
He took a deep breath and turned around.
Simultaneously, her door clicked open and she stepped out.
… and they were face to face.
There she was, better than he ever imagined her to be.
Wet hair, chapped lips but perfect in her own mad way.