The week passed on quietly since then. Teuta heard some rustling that night, some walking against the hardwood floor. In the early morning, he left and she had not heard from him again. In fact, the neighbouring unit was so quiet, she wondered whether the man moved out or if he was abroad.
Her quiet days came to a despicable close, though. It was Saturday night, or rather Sunday, as it was past midnight, and she woke up to the sound of someone banging on her door, fighting the lock to get in. There was a voice on the other end, loud and clearly drunk.
"Let me in, you bastard. It's fucking freezing out here!"
She could discern it as female, but nothing else was distinguishable.
The young woman got up, decidedly not caring about her personal safety at such an indecent hour, and made her way to the front door. She could see the doorknob twisting, whoever was on the other side resolute on entering. Fear suddenly formed a pit in her stomach, and she grabbed a large chef's knife, knowing fully well she had no clue how to wield it. Her stupid police training was for absolutely fucking nothing.
Then, she padded to the door, body tense. Her hand trembled as she reached for the chain, pulling it from its fastening, and then twisting the lock to open, bracing herself.
What she was not expecting was the door pushing open without waiting, a woman not too older than herself stumbling in, a pair of expensive heels in her hand.
It was too dark to see much, and she squinted as she found her couch, promptly dropping her shoes and falling onto it. She murmured a thank-you before closing her eyes and lulling herself asleep.
Teuta stood there in shock, not sure what to do with the wavering knife still in her hand and the foreign presence now occupying her couch.
"Erm... Hello?" She tried, taking a few conscious steps forward. "Who are you?"
The eyes flashed open, making she think the woman was not as unconscious as she previously thought. She took Teuta in quickly, scanning up and down her body, confusion contorting her features.
"You're new." The woman concluded.
Her green eyes narrow. "I live here. There's nothing new about me."
The woman's face twisted even more, and she watched her roll her words around in her mouth. "Live...here? No...no, I got the right number this time. I know I did. Where's... Where's Limbo?"
"Who on Earth is Limbo?" Teuta asks, incredulous. "No, better yet, who are you?"
She sat up, nausea clouding her expression, and she silently prayed she would not vomit all over her couch.
"'M Valerie." She mumbled. "Valerie Fitzgerald. And how do you not know who Limbo is? You don't look like the type of girl to forget who they're fucking."
Teuta held up her hands, stopping her from continuing. "I am not fucking anybody right now."
"You sure look like you could use it, sis."
The younger woman bristled, shaking it off. "Where do you think you are? Can I call someone?"
Valerie opened her mouth to say something, but another voice sounded out, coming from the corridor. She clenched her eyes as the pieces started to click.
"Valerie? Valerie? Is that you?" The voice got closer. Her neighbour got closer. Sher musically inclined neighbour who she had been blissfully free from for the past ten nights.
She felt him stop in her threshold, the door wide open for him.
"What…? Who…?" She spun, not knowing who to focus on first: the half-lucid woman on her couch, or the random man who was currently staring into her living room. "What the fuck is going on?"
"Can I come in? That's my sister." Mystery Man—Limbo, she assumed—pointed to the sofa, Valerie looking around deliriously from it.
Valerie perked up at that, jaw dropping.
"I did it again, did not I?" She brought her hand over her eyes, collapsing dramatically back to the cushions. "Every single time. It's Vonda's fault. You know it is."
That familiar chuckle flooded her ears, and Teuta faced him again.
"Of course, come in." She invited him, if only to be free of both Fitzgerald siblings any faster
Limbo smiled, approaching she slowly, then crouching in front of Valerie, peering at her.
"Every single time." He repeated back, feeling awfully smug. "Come on, sis. You can sleep off your heartache on my sofa."
She groaned, pushing herself to a sitting position. She put her arms out as she wavered, but Limbo was already there. She flinched back as her hand brushed his, then chided herself because of how absolutely juvenile she must seem.
Valerie started to stand, still uncoordinated, and slurred, "I really thought I had the number right this time. Like I really…"
Teuta silenced her. "Don't worry about it. I trust she's going to stay with you?"
She fixed her gaze to Limbo. The idea of a drunk person all on their own made something prickle in her blood.
Limbo nodded surely, his dark brown hair glinting in the moonlight flooding through her windows. "She's my older sister."
She took that as enough, walking the two of them back to the door and out into the corridor. Limbo opened his door for her, letting Valerie scrabble for support on the wall as he turned back to her. He smiled, and the sudden lighting showed she a face that was quite attractive. Much more than she expected.
"You did not answer my letter." He drawled, leaning against the wall. "I'm hurt."
Teuta bit her cheek. "Well, I met you anyway, did I not?"
"The sting is still there." The man responded dramatically. "You even admitted you were my friend. I thought that was progress."
"I'm sure you would've lived. You didn't even know who I was." She began turning to her apartment, unsure of how she would fall back asleep after the whole ordeal she just witnessed. Partook in.
Limbo's grin only grew. "I've seen you before, and that damned cat of yours likes to crawl through my window sometimes. I don't understand how it even gets onto the balcony—and jumping across them? So dangerous."
Her eyes widened. "He what? Oh, God, he's going to get himself killed. I'm so sorry about him; Max thinks that the nine lives rule actually applies to him, even four stories up."
"Don't apologize. At least he can appreciate my piano, unlike some people." He looked her up and down, reference clear.
Teuta scoffs. "I'm only unappreciative of your piano when it increases my migraines. It's not my fault you were so sensitive."
"Me? Sensitive?" He gasped, as if terribly offended. "You must be mistaken. I was distraught, more than anything, but you seemed to solve that."
"How so?"
"Because you told me you enjoyed my music some other times." He replied proudly.
The girl stood straight, narrowing her eyes. "That was only implied, I did not actually say something in the likes."
"Implicit, explicit, I could care less, but don't worry, because now I owe you a gift for my gratitude. A cup of tea, maybe?" Limbo offered, cheeky.
She snorted, going back inside her apartment, door almost shut when she spoke: "In your dreams."
With that, she went back to her bed.