Contrary to her frustrated statement just hours before, Limbo seemed to be the one invading her dreams.
His face was imprinted across her eyelids, invading her thoughts at every blink. It was his chocolate, wind swiped hair, and his bluish-grey eyes, and his oddly endearing smile. She had seen for only a fleeting moment, but she felt every inch of those few letters in that span of time.
Teuta almost wanted to see him again. Or maybe be his friend.
That is the intrusive thought that carried on faithfully and insistently with her the entire day, and then another question sidled in beside it.
Why?
Why him? Why like this? Why now? He was handsome, yes, but she had seen her share of handsome men, and dreamt about none of them. Well, except Adam, but that was on a different context, not like that.
She did not forget. Sher mind searched for some sort of explanation for that attachment, but came up with nothing. He was just right next door—the potential for a new connection, a new relationship to ease the boredom, to fill the too many empty nights with just Max as a company. The strained relationship she has with everyone else in her life no longer sufficed.
It only got worse when Teuta found a new note had been slipped under her door while she had been at work. She picked it up, still finding entertainment that Limbo could not find a scrap of untouched paper. Giddiness bloomed in her chest, and she cursed herself.
Dear My Friend Who I Still Managed to Not Get the Name of,
I must formally apologize yet again for last night. That was the first time Valerie has been to this apartment. I actually lived out in the 'burbs, but my landlord wanted my place back. It was a family thing. So, I decided to get a place in the city, commuting and so. I texted her the right address, but she was drunk and got confused.
I can tell you more about it over a cup of tea. I must remind you that it's good manners to ask your neighbour if you're out on a coffee run whether they want something, you know?
And if you haven't noticed, I did keep my playing to a minimum. More progress.
Still waiting for that Earl Grey,
Limbo
She folded it back up, placing it into the small drawer on her desk where she had started keeping his letters. She was about to set it down when she felt a different texture. A bit of thick material taped to the back of the paper.
She flipped it over. Max's sleeping face greeted her. On top of an upright piano. Limbo's upright piano. There was another scribble of context:
I think he likes me.