Done as a fill for the-doctor-moriarty over on Tumblr, who asked for: Alarkling prompt: neighbors.
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Day 16: That evening when she gets home she notices his hydrangea has bloomed, the flowers a brilliant deep plum color; her own near the house doesn't look like it'll bloom at all this year, let alone such a fantastic color. He weeded her front bed too.
She narrows her eyes, absentmindedly grabbing her mail as she heads up the walk. One day Aleksander I'm going to discover your gardening secret.
Day 24: Saturday morning sees her up bright and early so she can get a head start on planting: the local CSA had a starter sale and she'd snagged one of every veggie they had. Even with sunglasses the sun is bright and she blinks for a few moments before continuing on.
Only to pull up short when she sees her dear neighbor in his own backyard, shoveling barkdust…shirtless. She's pretty sure that's illegal and she should be calling the police. He notices her staring and arches an eyebrow. "Morning Alina."
"Morning," she answers in some weird mutter shout. Ripping her gaze away from him she focuses on turning on her MP3player and speakers; she hopes he likes Euro-pop.
Day 33: Genya sits on Alina's back porch sipping some fruity drink she'd brought with her, looking like she'd just stepped off a movie set, while Alina herself finishes up watering her pots. "Sounds like weird gardener flirting to me," Genya punctuates this with a slurp of her drink.
"'Weird gardener flirting'?" Alina finds herself more bemused than anything else. Even if it's definitely not flirting.
"Shirtless barkdust laying? Oh yeah, I mean think of the splinters and that shit getting everywhere? Man's gotta have a serious crush to risk getting barkdust in his junk and ruining his mysterious allure. Zoya will totally agree with me."
Alina makes a face and sprays Genya.
Day 67: It's too hot outside to do anything. So Alina retreats to her kind of ACed house and drinks lemonade faster than she can pour it.
A completely by chance glance out her favorite picture window reveals Aleksander plugging away at his backyard, weeding it looks like. She narrows her eyes -she does that a lot when it comes to him-, and heaves a sigh.
Grabbing a large Starbucks travel cup she fills it with lemonade ice cubes and lemonade, then braces herself for the smack of heat.
"Hey!" She calls out as she approaches the short-ish fence that delineates their properties. He looks up, there's barkdust in his black hair and a smear of dirt on his forehead. Holding out the cup she gives her best authoritative stare. "Drink something before you keel over."
Aleksander takes the cup, which looks hilariously ridiculous in his black gloved hand and takes a sip. "Thanks."
She just nods and retreats to her cold house.
Day 68: There's a knock on her front door around ten. She wrinkles her nose in confusion as she sets the coffee mug she'd just washed on the drying rack. Wiping her hands down on a towel she heads to the front door.
Not bothering to look in the peephole she yanks the door open. Gaping a little when she notices it's Aleksander on the other side. This morning he looks as put together as he does when he's not gardening; she briefly wonders if there's some sort of class the local college offers, advanced pretty?, that he, Genya, and everyone else she seems to associate with have clearly taken.
Her train of thought's broken by her cup being shoved in her face. "I already washed it."
She takes it with a little nod. "Thanks."
His grey eyes bore into her for a few long moments and she almost snaps at him about it. The he gives a little nod. "Lunch?"
"What? That's a word not a question." Then again it happens to her sometimes too, much to the bemusement, she hopes, of the people who work at the gardening store she frequents. So far the best came from a woman who got sea holly from 'blue spiny cones'.
Now he's the one narrowing his eyes, she wonders if he does that a lot over her, and a huff of laughter escapes him. "I never took you to be a prescriptionist. And would you like to have lunch?"
"Uhhh," so much for eloquence. "Alright?"
"I'll be back at eleven thirty then." He turns and walks across her yard to his own. For a brief moment she wants to yell at him to get off her lawn, but instead closes the door.
Leaning against it she stares down at the travel cup in her hands. "Genya and Zoya are going to want to enshrine you when I tell them what happened."