The next morning came swiftly and almost quietly. It didn't take long for you to register the sound of what the noises were that were coming from your hall bath. You sighed and got yourself out of bed, slipping your robe on and making your way to the kitchen to mix up the one drink you have learned over the years that cures hangovers. You were never much of a drinker yourself, though you had gotten pretty wasted a few times, your cousin sent you the recipe to help with even the nastiest of hangovers for the morning after. You threw everything together and mixed it up; making sure everything was the proper measurement. You started a fresh pot of coffee for yourself before exiting the kitchen with the shake and a towel both in hand. You waited outside the bathroom door for a few minutes until you heard the noises stop and the toilet flush for the last time. You waited for him to slowly open the door before handing him a towel and the glass with the drink in it. You gave him a hopeful smile.
'This should help,' you said softly and went back to the kitchen to get something for the headache you were 100 sure he had with the hangover.
He quietly followed you in to the kitchen and sat down at the table. 'Why do you do this for me every time,' he asked quietly.
'Do what every time,' you asked and slightly turned to face him.
He waved his hands around, 'all of this. Pulling me out of the hall so I don't wake up out there in the morning, letting me sleep on your couch, and then letting me deal with the aftermath of what drinking does to a person, and giving me that lovely shake that you make to get rid of the hangover.'
'I would hope someone would do the same for me if they saw me in that state of mind,' you said simply and walked over with a glass of water and two pills for him to take.
'Thanks,' he said and took them both from your hands.
You sat down across from him at the table with a cup of coffee in front of you, allowing it to cool before taking a sip from the steaming mug.
'If you like, you can take a shower or something here, unless you'd rather go back to your apartment to,' you were cut off by the sound of someone knocking on your door.
'I'll be right back,' you said quietly and got up to answer the door. You unlocked the door and opened it to find a woman standing an inch or two shorter than yourself, skinny as a rod and far too tan for your taste, topped off with an unhappy face.
'My boyfriend wouldn't be here by chance would he,' she asked quickly.
'So much for a friendly hello,' you thought to yourself.
'He came home extremely drunk last night and he isn't answering his door across the hall or his cell phone for that matter,' she added.
You opened the door a bit wider, 'he's here.'
'Good, I'll just fetch him and take him back to his apartment then,' she snipped and walked in and found him standing in the doorway of the kitchen which was only a mere 15 or so feet from the door.
Watching her walk over to him for some reason the extreme feeling of distaste for her washed over you. Even though you barely knew him, you still knew him enough to help him out when he needed it the most and be there for him in the morning when the effects of his actions the evening before kicked him. You looked up at him and you both made eye contact briefly, you could tell just by that one look that you knew he wished you hadn't answered the door. He broke the eye contact and looked down at his girlfriend and repeated a number of times that he was alright.
'Well, we should be going,' the woman said quickly and pulled him right out the door, though he followed as slowly as he could.
'Thank you Klara,' he said as he left.
'You're welcome Ville, any time,' you said with a small pitiful smile.
Part of you right that instant wanted to run after him and save him from that witch of a girlfriend he had, but the other part of you knew that if you did go after him, you would have no way to explain yourself. You were nothing more than the girl across the hall, nothing more than that. You softly let out a sigh and closed the door; you could already hear the loud arguing coming from the other side of the door to his apartment. This made your heart sink even lower. It didn't even occur to him that someone so close in distance would never treat him like that, especially when he wasn't hung over. Though, there were probably other issues going on that they were arguing about that had nothing to do with you, you locked up the door and went off to go and get ready for the day.
You quickly showered and dressed for the day. While you were applying your make up you could hear a loud bang coming from Ville's apartment door. You sighed and slightly shook your head before touching the eyeliner pencil back to your eyelid. You finished up, slipped your shoes on your feet and snatching up your purse as you made your way out of your apartment. You glanced down at your watch and saw that it was still fairly early, you didn't need to be down at the office until 5, so you figured your mind as well just get some of your grocery shopping done. Living with your mother for a few weeks left your cabinets bare and caused some foods to go rotten. You made your way down the street, not needing a car since you technically couldn't drive anyways; never saw the point of a license. You were pretty much driven around by who ever your agent got for you to take you to and from an event. Plus it helped that everything was so close together in Helsinki. You took in a deep breath, it smelled like fall, you loved the smell of fall, and there was a hint of rain left in the air from the day before. You slipped your clammy hands into the pockets of your jacket and continued down the sidewalk to the store. It was as if everything was going back to the routine you once knew, or so it seemed.
