Yes, I know I already have a Mereta modern AU. Or three... But I needed another one. Yes, needed.
Dedicated to Eva Maverx, who helped with the creation of this thing.
Stubborn Streak
Eret hadn't paid much attention to the red headed girl who moved into the apartment down the half from his. With her lion's made of red-orange curl's, she was hard to miss, whether he saw her in the hall, the parking lot, the college campus, or anywhere else in town. But as it was, he had other things to worry about.
Right up until the day he came home from the gym one morning and found the stairwell blocked.
He had been jogging down the sidewalk, thinking about what he needed to do before he left for work. But he came to a stop when he reached the stairs to find a sofa blocking the path. And the redhead, glaring at the furniture as if that might somehow get the thing up three flights of stairs, to the second floor. Actually, with a glare like that, Eret was almost surprised the laws of physics didn't break for her. He would hate to be on the receiving end of that look.
Still, he couldn't help that she's crazy was the first thought that passed across his mind as she went around the couch, lifting one end to get it up on the stairs.
When she caught sight of him watching, he found out exactly what it was like to be on the receiving end of that glare.
And he would rather had been pretty much anywhere else.
"Whot?" she asked. Her accent was thick even in that one word, though he wasn't sure if it was Irish or Scottish. Whatever it was, it paired perfectly with her hair.
"Do you need help?" he offered, when she looked back to the couch.
Her glare snapped back to him. "No."
Eret quirked an eyebrow as she dragged the love seat a few more inches. One end was now propped on the third step. And for the life of him, he couldn't see how this was going to work.
"Can I get around, then?" he asked. "I have to get ready for work."
Her grunt sounded vaguely like a positive.
He tried to step around the couch, but it was too close to the railing, so he ended up climbing over the couch back. He muttered an apology, but doubted it made a difference.
When he passed her, she didn't even look over at him.
A little over an hour later, when he came back down, she was still there. He was impressed that she had gotten a few steps higher... but the progress was miniscule considering how long she had been at it.
She stepped back to let him climb over the thing again, without saying anything.
Eret paused at the bottom of the stairs, glancing back. "Are you sure—"
"Ah'm fine!"
He held up his hands in defense. "Okay."
Yup. Crazy.
Work was so slow that, as time dragged on, he started wondering how far she had gotten. Even trying to calculate if there was anyway she could possibly get the thing up the stairs alone. (The answer was no.) How long would she keep at it before she gave up?
After a couple hours, when things didn't pick up, he was sent home.
He managed to get a parking spot right by the stairs, so as soon as he pulled up he saw the couch on the stairs. The red head now lay on the cushions, an arm draped over her eyes. For all her fire, it looked as though she had finally given up. Even her curls seemed a little limp.
She lifted her arm when she heard him come up, glancing over before she closed her eyes again.
"If yoo step on me, I'll tear your foot off," she said.
"Charming," Eret said. "Get off."
"Don't tell me what t'—HEY!"
When she made no move to get off, Eret sighed, and lifted the end of the couch up so quickly she was almost thrown off the seat.
"Hey!"
"Get the other end," he said, nodding towards it.
"I don't need your help."
Yes, you do, he thought. But he suspected saying that outloud would be hazardous to his health. "Of course not. Got the other end."
He expected her to fight. But to his relief, she scrambled off the couch and lifted the other end.
"You ready?"
He thought she might be glaring at nothing in particular. But exhaustion had dulled the expression. "Aye."
Twenty minutes later they made it to the second floor, but they only stopped when they reached her door. She let got with one hand to push it open. In the narrow hallway, it took come maneuvering to get it through the door. But neither of them slammed a finger, so he decided it qualified as a success."
"I can get it from here," she said, as soon as they were through the door.
Eret shook his head. "Where does it go?"
She sighed, but lead him to the back wall of the living room, where they set the couch down.
Eret let out a sigh of relief as he let go of the couch and stood up straight. He rubbed his shoulder, which had already been sore from his workout that morning. Now the muscle felt more like jelly than a muscle. He was going to feel that in the morning.
Without meaning to, he looked around the apartment. The layout was a flipped version of his own, though the windows were in the living room, instead of the kitchen. The bedroom and bathroom were down a short hallway.
In one corner, by the sliding glass door, a bow and a quiver of arrows leaned against the wall, under a shelf full of trophies. Everything else in the room seemed to be an after though.
"I've got it from here," the red head said. It was an obvious dismissal.
Well, no good deed goes unpunished, he thought, shrugging as he went back to his own apartment.
#
He didn't see the red head for a few days, save for a glimpse through his window, which looked out over the parking lot.
To his surprise, she came up to him on campus. He sat at one of the picnic tables in the courtyard, waiting for his next class.
"Hi."
He looked up to see her standing across the table, thumbs hooked in the belt loops of her dark skinny jeans. She looked uncomfortable, her eyes fixed on the table top.
"Hi." He wasn't sure what else to say.
"Thanks," she said. "For the other day."
From the way she said the word, he got the impression she didn't say it very often. (He wondered if the word "sorry" was even in her vocabulary.)
Eret shrugged. "No big deal."
She nodded, but didn't turn away. "Can I buy you lunch?"
He paused, trying to figure out if she was asking him out, or if it was part of her gratitude. The latter was probably a safe guess.
"Sure." He held out his right hand. "I'm Eret, by the way."
Her handshake was firm, her fingers calloused. From her bowstring, probably.
"Merida," she said.