""i live below you and i was minding my own business watching the snowfall out the window WHEN I SAW A BODY FALL ARE YOU REALLY PUTTING UP CHRISTMAS LIGHTS NOW" + rilaya i can already fuckin picture it in my head this could go either way"
disclaimed
...
It's nearing midnight on the twenty third of December and Maya is, for once, completely content. She is, really—she's got the heat turned up and a window cracked and is completely bundled up in blankets, fuzzy socks on and hot chocolate in hand, prepped and ready to watch the new snow that she keeps seeing on her weather app roll in.
And then—
well. There's no good way to phrase it.
Maya peaceful evening in is interrupted by a crack and a shriek, immediately followed by a body falling and landing with a muted thud in the bushes right in front of her front window. "Holy shit," Maya hisses, leaving her mug on the windowsill as she struggles to get out of her blanket burrito.
She's so panicked that she barely remembers that she's only wearing socks and there's already a good six inches of snow on the ground, but she does at the last second, shoving her feet into the first pair of shoes she sees. Maya grabs her keys and her phone as well, pretty sure that she's going to find a dead body when she makes it outside and—she should call someone about that, yeah?
When she does make it outside, Maya can see that the body is still a living one, having rolled itself off the bushes and onto the ground.
As Maya nears, the body—a girl, a very, very pretty girl that Maya vaguely recognizes—starts groaning. "Oh my god." Mystery Girl moves stiffly as she places an arm over her eyes. "C'mon Matthews."
Maya realizes then that she's still remained unnoticed. "Uh," she clears her throat, watching Mystery Girl freeze. "Are you—I mean, you landed hard so, like, are you okay?" She's never been one for stammering, but Maya's also got eyes and Mystery Girl's got this red cheeked look of exhilaration on her face when she moves her arm off her eyes and looks at Maya, like it's just now hitting her that she's not dead and Maya is very, very gay.
"Crap," Mystery Girl moans. "This totally wasn't how we were supposed to meet."
It's the most absurd thing she could have said, Maya thinks, which is how she justifies the bark of laughter that works its way free from her. And the burst of warmth that follows Mystery Girl's surprised smile.
Not the time, Hart.
She comes around to crouch next to Mystery Girl, her phone clutched in one hand as the other hovers just above the other girl's wrist, where Maya can already see a bruise forming. "Where did you fall from?" she asks, quickly channeling the professionalism she carries at work, wrangling paint splattered kids away from inedible paint and sharp objects. Without waiting for an answer, she starts to dial 911.
"Just the second floor," Mystery Girl assures her. "Really, I'm fine."
"Move your wrist."
"Okay," the girl concedes. "Ninety percent of me is probably fine. I fall a lot, this was nothing."
Maya fixes her with a hard look, eyebrows drawing together. "What the hell were you even doing?"
The girl's eyes flick past Maya briefly, her easy smile twisting into a grimace as she flushes red. Maya turns and follows her gaze, catching sight of the half-finished light job on the railing of what must be Mystery Girl's balcony.
"Oh, for the love—," Maya starts, eyes going wide then narrowing when she swings them back to the girl on the ground in front of her. "Don't move," she snaps when Mystery Girl tries to sit up. She waits for the girl to settle, to still, before she launches into it. "What the hell were you doing? It's freezing out here and snowing, so you thought that right now, tonight, was the best time to put up lights? Oh my god—!"
"Hey!" the girl cuts her off indignantly, frowning up at Maya. "I didn't have a chance to decorate before now!"
"It is the twenty third, maybe, I don't know, come to peace with the lack of decorations?" Maya sits back on her heels, glares as she puts her call through to 911.
"Police, fire, or ambulance?"
"Ambulance," Maya says flatly, raising an eyebrow when it looks like the girl is about to argue with her.
"And what's your emergency?"
"My—," she glances up at Mystery Girl's apartment, settles on a term. "My neighbor fell off her second floor balcony."
"Is she conscious?"
"Currently."
"Did she ever lose consciousness?"
Maya leans away from her phone for a moment. "Did you ever lose consciousness?" she stage-whispers. Mystery Girl shakes her head. Nodding, Maya returns to the call, relays the message. She gives the operator the rest of the information, rattling off the address quickly before she hands up.
"So," Mystery Girl starts, lips quirking into a smile. "I'm your new neighbor."
"Hm?"
"I moved in a couple weeks ago." Her smile broadens, turns cheeky. "I'd shake your hand, but you're pretty adamant about me not moving."
And that would be why she's familiar in that fuzzy, distant sort of way. Now that Maya thinks about it, she's pretty sure she's seen her when she goes to pick up her mail and take out her trash but, quite honestly, she'd just assumed she was the newest conquest of Mr. Handsome from across the hall and that she'd be gone in a few weeks.
She doesn't want to even start to break down the odd giddy feeling Maya gets when she realizes that Mystery Girl will be hanging around for at least twelve months, if their landlord is still as much of a stickler for iron clad leases as she was when Maya signed.
"Well neighbor," Maya murmurs, offering a small smile and a stilted pat to her hair. "I'm Maya Hart. You're welcome for saving your life."
Mystery Girl rolls her eyes even as her expression stays open, goofy. "Riley Matthews," she offers in return. "You totally didn't save my life because I'm fine, but I'd still like to buy you coffee for, you know, standing out in the cold with me."
Before Maya has a chance to answer—even though she's blushing, she's totally blushing—the ambulance arrives, EMTs hopping out and shuffling between Maya and Riley. Off to the side, Maya tells one of them everything she knows, watching over the man's shoulder as Riley's poked and prodded and lifted onto a stretcher, C-collar in place.
It's when she's watching Riley get loaded into the ambulance that she has the impulse.
"Hey!" Maya calls, jogging over. The EMT at the door pauses, keeping it open for Maya to talk to Riley. "Do you want some company?"
And—shit. Riley's kind of adorable, especially with the little flicker of surprise that crosses her face before she breaks into a sunny grin. "Yeah," she answers quickly. "Maybe after I get cleared, I can buy you that coffee."
The EMT closest to her helps Maya hop into the back. "I'll hold you to that," she tells Riley with a laugh. The ambulance shudders as it starts, lurching forward in the snow that's quickly blanketing Manhattan. Maya lets the motion bring her a little closer to Riley, leaning in a bit when she asks, "So how often do you use falling off a balcony as an excuse to ask girls out?" with a shit-eating grin, praying to every god she knows that she hasn't misread the situation.
From the way Riley blushes, Maya's pretty sure she's good.