The coffee shop was busy with the morning rush; everyone agitated waiting for their morning caffeine fix before they headed to work. Karen and I waited near the counter for our orders in silence, almost shoulder to shoulder in the crowded space. My eyes felt like they were on fire and I raised a hand rubbing at them as if it would alleviate the exhaustion.
"You weren't kidding about staying out all night," I mumbled to Karen beside me.
She sent me a sheepish smile, her hands fidgeting with the belt on her skirt. "Yeah," she breathed out awkwardly. "I uhm, really didn't feel comfortable going back home alone last night." She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear before shooting me a tight smile. "Thanks for coming back to my apartment with me, too. I didn't really want to wear that dress for an entire second day."
I shrugged nonchalantly in response. "No problem. Considering what you've just been through, I wouldn't be inclined to be alone there either." I turned my attention towards her, taking in her nervous gestures. "I'm glad you're okay though."
She nodded in response, inhaling deeply before forcing a smile onto her face. "Thanks for coming out last night, too. Sorry Foggy and I were probably incredibly annoying. I can't imagine what that must have been like to deal with sober."
I chuckled lightly, remembering Karen's giggly state and Foggy's very obvious flirting with her. "Honestly, it was amusing. I had fun. Though…I can't say it wasn't more enjoyable when you both finally sobered up." The barista behind the counter called out our order, placing the paper cups on the marbled surface before Karen and I stepped forward to grab them. "It's definitely more enjoyable to converse with people who can make coherent sentences."
"Oh, God," Karen grumbled, wiping a hand down her face in embarrassment. "We must have sounded ridiculous."
We swerved our way through the crowd in the shop, pushing our way towards the exit. A few people grumbled or sent us glares as we tried to weave through the long line and outside.
"Just a bit," I teased Karen as we finally stepped outside, shooting her a grin.
Karen took a sip of her cappuccino, eyes closing to revel in the caffeine for a moment. When she opened them, she glanced back at me, a warm smile on her lips.
"Thanks for the coffee, too."
"Looked like you could use it," I told her. "And considering you offered to work for Foggy and Matt for free , thought I'd help you out."
She bit her lip, glancing both ways before crossing the street. I followed after her keeping an eye out for traffic.
"I really should get them to pay me something," she laughed out.
"Yes, you definitely should," I agreed.
She stopped in front of a brick building and I almost ran into her. She waved her hand up and smiled.
"This is it," she told me.
My brows furrowed at the building. "It's…a hardware shop?"
Karen rolled her eyes before waving me along. "It's inside. Come on, I'll give you a brief tour."
I followed after the woman, entering the building and heading down the hall past other offices. On the glass of the door at the end of the hall there was a taped piece of paper with the words 'Nelson and Murdock, Attorneys at Law' written in black sharpie. I waited as Karen unlocked the door and then swung it open, stepping inside. Walking in behind her, I noticed there was a folding table with a small stack of papers on top in the main room, and just to the side against the wall were a few boxes which were filled with files. Karen dropped her purse onto the table and took another sip of her coffee before setting it beside her purse and turning to me.
"Would you like the grand tour?" she asked.
I smirked at her dramatic hand sweep around the small space. "Yes, please."
Karen cleared her throat before waving her arms around us. "This is my office. It's where I answer calls and sit and greet clients…if we had any." She crossed the room and pushed a door to the right open and gestured inside. "This is Foggy's office–he's working on decorating, or so he says." She stepped out and crossed the main room, pushing the door open to the other room. "And this is Matt's office. He's…not really into decorating." She led me back out to the main office and pointed to a room tucked behind Matt's office. "And that's the break room. There's a little coffee maker and some cups but that's about it." She clapped her hands together as she leant against the folding table, a smile on her face. "And that's the tour."
"When they said they just started their own practice together," I told her, "they really did mean they just opened it, huh?"
The door to the office swung open behind me and I turned as Foggy stepped in, coffee in hand and dark circles under his eyes. He grinned when he spotted me, shutting the door behind him.
"Olivia! I wasn't expecting to see you here," Foggy greeted.
"Karen and I grabbed coffee across the street," I said, eyeing the way he rubbed at his eyes. "You doing okay there, Nelson?"
"Me?" Foggy asked, perking up at my question. "I'm great. Or I will be when I finish this," he answered, lifting his cup of coffee. "Just next time," he said, glancing behind me at Karen, "maybe we shouldn't drink the eel."
Karen let out a laugh and I shook my head.
"You keep saying that and I really don't want to know," I muttered, taking a sip of my latte.
The door opened again and Matt appeared, moving slow and closing the door gently behind him.
"Hey buddy!" Foggy called out as Matt leant his cane against the wall and stepped in. Foggy gasped the moment I noticed it too. "Dude, what happened to your eye?"
"Are you okay?" Karen immediately asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Matt answered offhandedly as he neared his office door, adjusting his glasses further up his nose. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going last night. It was my fault. Not a big deal."
"You need a dog," Foggy pushed.
Matt chuckled a little. "I'm not going to get a dog, Foggy."
"What's wrong with a dog?" Foggy continued. "You don't like dogs? Everybody loves dogs."
"I love dogs," Karen added.
Foggy turned towards me, eyebrows raised. "Olivia? Chime in here?"
I saw Matt's brows furrow at the name and Foggy quickly turned towards him.
"Your new neighbor, Olivia, is here, by the way," Foggy explained before glancing back at me.
I cleared my throat awkwardly, glancing down at my coffee. "I mean I'm…partial to cats."
"Oh come on!" Foggy said, crossing the room and playfully slapping my shoulder.
Matt's lip twitched up at the corner, a small smile playing across them at my words. His head tilted in the direction my voice had come from and I felt the hair on my arms prickle at the gesture. Almost as if I could once again feel him focusing on me in the space.
"Good morning, Olivia," Matt greeted me, voice all charm. "I didn't realize you were here, I apologize."
Before I could open my mouth to respond, Foggy was already speaking again.
"You missed a hell of a night last night," he began. "Where were you?"
"I was uh…" Matt coughed glancing down. "Busy."
Foggy shot him a knowing look, nodding. "Uh huh. Well while you were busy , Karen and I went out and got drunk. And we tried to get you to come out with us, but you never answered your door. Instead, we ended up roping Olivia here into staying up all night with us."
Matt's brows rose behind his dark glasses. "Did you, now?"
His head tilted in my direction again and I felt my heart rate quicken. How the hell did he have that effect on me?
"They made a good point," I began. "I just moved here and I don't really know anyone. Staying up all night with two strangers in a new city sounded like a horribly great idea."
Matt's smile slowly grew; I could see the way the lines near his eyes crinkled just past his glasses.
If only he'd take the damn things off…
"Then I deeply regret my absence last night," Matt said, his dark glasses pointing in my direction as his tongue briefly flitted out against his lips, drawing my eye. I could have sworn his lips twitched into a smirk. "I wish I could have helped welcome you to the city. Maybe you'd be interested in coming out with us to Josie's?"
I bit my lip, hesitating, before finally answering. "I think that'd be fun–though I'd prefer it on a night that I'd actually gone to sleep the night before."
Matt chuckled at my words, muttering out, "Of course."
"Yeah dude," Foggy said after swallowing a drink of his coffee. "I'm not twenty-one anymore. I need sleep after last night."
A knock came at the door and everyone froze.
"Someone's at the door?" Foggy asked, curiously.
"It would appear so," Matt answered before his head turned in the direction of Karen. "Karen? You want to get that?"
She stood there for a moment, eyes wide, before shaking her head and smiling. "Yeah, right, yes," she said, rushing over and answering the knock.
A tall, well-dressed man in what looked to be an expensive suit was standing in the doorway, a cold, professional smile on his face. He stepped inside hesitantly, eyes quickly surveying the office before they landed on each of us in turn.
"Hello," the man greeted. "Do you do walk-ins?"
I cleared my throat and nodded at Foggy, Karen, and Matt–knowing the latter couldn't see the gesture–before heading towards the door.
"Right, I need to get to work," I said awkwardly, making my exit.
"It was good running into you again," Matt called after me.
I felt the blush rise to my cheeks as I practically darted around their potential new client and into the hall. As I made my way out of the building, I checked the time on my phone. If I rushed straight back to my apartment I would probably only login a few minutes late to work. It wouldn't be a big deal if I worked a few minutes late to make up for it. And then I'd…probably order take out and crash early to make up for my lack of sleep the previous night.
Turning left on the sidewalk, I began power-walking my way back to my apartment. It was only a few blocks away, but the streets and sidewalks were bustling with everyone else trying to get to work on time. I spent the next twenty minutes weaving in and out of people, almost running headlong into an oncoming taxi at a crosswalk, growling angry words at the driver who wasn't paying attention, before finally making it to my building.
The lobby inside was empty; everyone had probably already left for work. I wouldn't have been surprised if I was one of the only people still inside during the weekdays. I preferred it that way though; it was quieter in my apartment and I didn't have to constantly interact with co-workers. And if I zoned out here and there, no one was breathing down my shoulder watching.
Once inside my apartment, I quickly locked it behind me, kicking off my shoes by the front door and tossing my keys onto the console table as I usually did. Then I hurried through the living room and turned on my computer, quickly logging in to work the moment I could pull up the program. With a tired sigh, I set my coffee cup on the coaster on my desk and let out a long sigh.
"Today is going to be rough ," I muttered to myself.
Work dragged by slowly, more than usual. I'd had to make two more lattes to make it to a little past four when my shift ended. By the time I clocked out of work, my eyes were struggling to remain open.
No more all nighters to make friends , I told myself as I shuffled to my bedroom.
I dug around in my bedroom drawers for clean clothes and settled on some sweatpants and an oversized shirt. Making my way down the hall to the bathroom, my stomach growled angrily.
"Ugh," I grumbled as I stepped into the bathroom. "I do not have the energy to cook tonight."
Turning on the shower, I tiredly leant against the wall just outside of the shower listening to the strong spray. I didn't realize I'd momentarily drifted off until my body lurched forward, my eyes startling open as my hands flew out to catch myself. I groaned as I stripped out of my clothes and got into the now steaming water.
The shower took twice as long as usual with how tired my brain and body was. I had accidentally washed my hair twice, having forgotten I'd done it the first time. When I finally got out and toweled off, I dressed in the comfortable clothing I'd brought in before grabbing my phone from the bathroom counter and heading toward the living room.
I collapsed on the gray sofa, throwing my legs up and leaning my head back against the arm rest. Rubbing a hand over my face, I quickly decided I'd just order takeout again. There had been a Mexican restaurant a block over that had good reviews and tacos did sound good. My stomach rumbled at the thought which was the final prompt I needed to grab my phone and spend a few minutes ordering some food for dinner, internally groaning when I was notified that delivery would take about twenty minutes.
With a huff, I sat up and set my phone onto the coffee table and grabbed the television remote, turning on the TV before mindlessly flipping through channels. I got comfortable on the couch and settled in, leaving the TV on some local news segment where there were three news anchors discussing the vigilante in Hell's Kitchen.
"Some say he's a hero," the brunette woman told her male co-anchors. "They're saying he took down a human trafficking ring the other night. And just last night, he saved a young boy that was kidnapped."
One of the men huffed, rolling his eyes. "This man in the mask is nothing but a guy with an ego problem. He wants to be a hero, but he shouldn't be out there assaulting people at night. Doesn't matter if they're criminals–it's against the law. I mean, where do we draw the line?"
"You're completely right. I say," the other man began, adjusting the glasses on his nose. "leave it to the police. It's their job and this… vigilante is only getting in the way and making more work for our law enforcement."
I yawned, stifling it behind a hand. I'd heard brief rumblings about the man in the mask, the man some people were beginning to call the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. When I'd grabbed coffee or picked up groceries–even just waiting at crosswalks–I'd overheard people recounting sightings of him or discussing how he'd helped someone they knew. He sounded more like a hero to me than these news anchors wanted to admit.
When I focused back on the television again, I realized they'd switched topics back over to the Hope Shlottman case.
"Don't even get me started on this ridiculousness," the man with glasses groaned. "It's absurd. It's just a young girl grasping at straws to avoid her rightful conviction. I mean hell," he continued, voice raising, "there's video footage of her committing the crime in the elevator!"
"I'll have to agree with you, Mark," the brunette woman said with a lofty laugh. "If there was a man running around with mind control powers, I think we'd have heard about him before now."
I sat up straighter on the couch, hand gripping the remote tighter at her words.
It's just a coincidence. It's not him.
"Exactly!" Mark exclaimed. "Some guy with the ability to mind control others, and he's using it to make a young woman kill her parents? No," he said, shaking his head. "I'm not buying it. But I would buy an insanity plea."
"You know," the other news anchor piped in, "the man arrested for this morning's armed robbery is claiming he was also mind controlled to commit the crime."
The three anchors shared a laugh and my heart rate increased, my hand still gripping tight on the remote.
"I heard about that!" the woman said. "Said that man told him to do it, just like he did with Shlottman."
My breath caught in my throat as the news anchors laughed loudly on my television screen, entirely oblivious. I could feel the color drain from my skin at the discussion of mind control.
"Mine."
I yelped, sliding across to the other end of the couch at the feel of warm breath against my ear and an entirely too familiar voice.
"My little dove."
I jumped up off the couch, spinning in circles for where the voice had come from before realizing I was alone. It was in my head, just like he had once been. I shivered involuntarily, crossing my arms tight across my chest.
A knock came from my apartment door and I let out a shriek, throwing the remote I'd had a death grip on across the room as my heart nearly flew out of my chest.
"Uh sorry, didn't mean to scare you in there," a woman's hesitant voice called from the other side of the door. "You're miss…Allen, right? Ordered some tacos from Nina's for delivery?"
I exhaled roughly, running a hand over my face. It was just the food I'd ordered. I was overtired and on edge. I needed food and sleep and then I'd be good again.
He's not here. He isn't looking for me.
Hesitantly I made my way to the door, pulling back the cover on the peephole just to make sure it was the food. A woman in her early twenties stood there, a bag of food in one hand clearly labeled Nina's Tacos, her phone in her other hand as she scrolled absently. I let the cover drop before I unlocked the deadbolt and the door lock.
The woman glanced up at me, pocketing her phone in her jeans as she sent me an awkward smile.
"Didn't mean to startle you," the woman said as she held out the bag.
"Just jumpy from lack of sleep," I mumbled in response, grabbing the bag quickly from her.
"Have a good night," she said with a smile.
"You too," I grumbled quickly before swinging the door shut and locking it.
I briefly heard the woman mutter under her breath, probably about my rudeness, before heading back to the couch and placing the bag of food onto the coffee table. Then I turned, searching the room for where I'd tossed the remote. I spotted it on the kitchen floor, making my way over and snatching it up before slamming my finger repeatedly on the button to change the channel. No more news for tonight.
As I sat down, I eventually landed on some cheesy, Hallmark Christmas romance movie. Thanksgiving was less than two weeks away and internally I noted it was still too early for these awful movies to be playing, but I left it on and got comfortable before digging into my tacos. At least a movie about some small town girl moving to the city and falling for the handsome, single dad but overly-busy and recently-widowed Hallmark handsome man wasn't going to remind me of… him .
It wasn't long after I'd finished my dinner and gotten comfortable on the couch that my eyes started drifting shut. Eventually I forced myself to turn off the TV and headed to bed.
Even though I spent a few minutes first double checking the locks on my front door and that the apartment was truly empty of anyone else.
Blood sprayed across the hall with such force the red liquid coated the glass of my square room. Bright red dripped down the opposite side of the glass from where my hands were pressed against it. Doctor Barlowe dropped heavily to her knees before she fell face first onto the once pristine floor. A surgical scalpel dropped from her limp and bloodied hand at her side. My eyes focused on the scalpel for a long moment before they slowly drifted up to the figure standing beside a terrified but rigid Doctor Whitlock. The strange man was smiling gently at me through the glass, his eyes locking onto mine for a moment before stepping forward towards the intercom to my room.
"Don't be afraid of me, little dove," the well-dressed man told me as he held the intercom button down, his accented voice filling my cell. "I'm not here to hurt you, I'm here to free you."
He lifted his finger from the button and turned his attention to Whitlock; the man was standing still and I couldn't fathom why he wasn't running away, especially with Barlowe's body sprawled lifeless just feet in front of him. As I eyed him for a moment longer, I noticed he was holding a syringe filled with the vibrant orange serum in one hand. The man in the dark suit said something, his voice too quiet for me to hear within my cell. I watched curiously as Whitlock shook his head, his lips moving rapidly as the hand holding the serum began to raise, hesitating just at his own neck.
My eyes darted towards the man in the suit, watching as he stalked casually over towards Whitlock, a smug smile on his lips as he easily side-stepped the dead woman on the floor. He reached the man and patted him lightly on the cheek before Whitlock took a few steps forward towards my cell. The man slid in behind Whitlock, leaning just a bit forward to whisper into his ear. With no warning, Whitlock jammed the syringe into his neck and pushed the plunger roughly down, his scream muffled by the thick glass walls of my room. My mouth parted in shock as my eyes darted back up to the man in the suit. He was smiling gently from his place behind the doctor who was currently screaming and clawing at his throat, completely uninterested in the man's pain.
Doctor Whitlock's muffled screams suddenly went silent and my brows furrowed when I noticed his face had gone red, and then a deep shade of violet. The man in the suit walked around him as he headed back towards my cell, his attention only briefly turned to the struggling man. By the time the man in the suit had reached the intercom again, Whitlock's eyes had rolled back into his head, the white's of his eyes all that were visible, but they were quickly turning pure red.
And then, with a muffled pop , Doctor Whitlock's head exploded in a splatter of blood and gore. My eyebrows shot high up onto my forehead before I turned a terrifying glance back at the man in the suit. His lip was curled in disgust as he eyed the blood and brain matter that had landed on his dark suit coat. When he glanced up and met my eyes again though, the gentle expression returned. He reached out and pressed the intercom button again, his eyes on me through the glass.
"They deserved this, don't feel any remorse," his smooth voice droned through the speaker. "And you, little dove, don't belong in a cage."
My eyes shot open and I was breathing hard. Quickly I sat upright, wrapping my arms around my body and sliding all the way up towards the headboard, pressing my back against it. A new voice whispered into my ear, not Doctor Whitlock's, but one that had been plaguing me for years.
"Come back, little dove."
My eyes clamped shut. "No," I ground out forcefully, shaking my head.
"You belong with me."
"Shut up, shut up!" I shouted, throwing my hands over my ears and shaking my head.
His laugh filled my bedroom, reverberating around the room and somehow past the hands covering my ears. I flinched at the sound.
"You're mine, little dove."
I felt a hand graze the bare skin along the back of my neck and I screamed, flailing in my attempts to get up out of bed and tear myself free of the bedsheets. In my haste, I knocked the lamp off of the nightstand and it fell to the floor with a loud crash. Eventually I scrambled out of bed and raced to the sliding bedroom door, pressing my back against the wall as I turned the light on. The overhead light on the ceiling turned on and flooded the room in light, dispersing the shadows.
The room was empty; he wasn't here. It was just my messy bed, the dark gray sheets half on the floor now, and my bedside lamp a broken mess on the floor. I was alone.
At least, I was, until a loud few knocks pounded on the front door of my apartment. My eyes darted toward the bedroom door to my left and I froze. My heart was racing in my chest, one hand reaching out to grip the doorframe tight.
"Olivia?" a voice called out, slightly muffled behind the front door and all the way across the apartment. "It's Matt, down the hall. I heard screaming and a crash. Are you okay?"
My head tipped forward against my shoulder, my eyes drifting closed at his concerned voice.
It's not him. He's not here.
I took a few shuddering breaths in, trying to calm down.
"Olivia?" Matt's worried tone called again.
I pushed off the wall of my bedroom and headed into the short hallway before entering into the living room, turning on every light as I went. When I reached the front door, I pulled the peephole cover back and checked just to make sure. It was, indeed, Matt from next door. I let the cover drop, pausing a moment to rest my forehead against the cold door and trying to compose myself before I unlatched the deadbolt and pulled the door open.
Matt was standing just outside of the doorway, his hand dropping to his side from where it had just been pressed against the door a moment ago. His hair was askew and he was dressed in a gray tee shirt and black sweatpants. He looked like he'd just gotten out of bed, or been about to go to sleep, before he'd wound up on my doorstep. He didn't have his red glasses on either, allowing me to take in his entire face finally. His soft hazel eyes were creased with concern as they darted all around in my general direction, not focusing particularly on one area. The corners of his lips were pulled downward in a slight frown.
"Are you okay?" Matt asked again as he continued his sightless scan of me.
I swallowed hard before answering, feeling embarrassed. "Yeah, I'm fine," I assured him, my voice cracking. I cleared it roughly before adding on, "I just have…nightmares. Sometimes."
"That was the screaming?" Matt asked, his eyes raising and landing finally somewhere along my cheek.
"Yes, I uh, just had a nightmare," I admitted awkwardly, my hand brushing some loose strands of hair behind my ear. "I…broke my lamp when I was waking up. I was uh…just a little disoriented. I'm fine, just sort of really embarrassed that you heard all of that."
The lines of worry eased visibly on Matt's face as he tilted his head and paused like that for a moment, his gaze dropped somewhere towards my chest. I bit my lip nervously as my eyes scanned his face in the silence. I spotted a cut on his left temple that hadn't been there this morning and my eyes narrowed for a moment.
"You're bleeding," I said before I realized I'd voiced the observation.
Matt's lips twisted into a puzzled frown. "I am?"
My hand rose, about to gently touch the left side of his face and brush back the hair on his temple and point out the cut, but I froze. The gesture seemed too intimate, I noted, not something I should be naturally trying to do with a neighbor I'd only briefly interacted with three times now. My hand dropped back to my side awkwardly, glad he couldn't see the gesture.
Instead I cleared my throat and told him, "Yeah, it's on your left side, near your temple. It's…it doesn't look real bad but it probably should be cleaned up and bandaged."
I bit my lip as I watched him gently raise a hand and touch near the cut. He winced a little at the contact.
"I fell on the pavement earlier," Matt told me sheepishly. "Didn't realize there was a crack in the sidewalk." He shrugged in an offhand way. "I'm pretty clumsy, I get injured often. Kinda comes with being blind." He let out an awkward laugh. "I can take care of it in a bit, I just want to make sure you're okay."
I chewed my lip nervously, feeling my stomach twist at his blatant concern. I remembered how last night Karen had told me he had said he'd heard me screaming from nightmares since I moved in and how he'd wanted to check on me before. Embarrassment mixed with something else, something I couldn't place, both feelings churning in my stomach.
Suddenly Matt raised a hand, nervously scratching the back of his neck. He glanced towards the ground as he shifted his weight on his feet.
"I'm sorry, I probably shouldn't have bothered you," he apologized awkwardly. "You don't know me that well and it's late and I'm making you uncomfortable. I'll just–"
"No!" I shot out quickly, cutting off his rambling apology.
He paused, eyes darting back up towards my chin as his brows raised slightly at my interruption. I swallowed hard, my hand nervously re-tucking hair behind my hair.
"No, you're not–I mean it's not," I spluttered nervously. I stopped, pausing to form a coherent thought in my head as he stood there watching me patiently. "You're not…making me uncomfortable," I finally managed. "I…appreciate the gesture. Checking on me, I mean." I laughed softly before I said, "It's very kind of you, checking on your weird neighbor who wakes up screaming from nightmares almost every night."
Matt shifted forward on his feet now, leaning in towards me with a gentle smile on his handsome face.
Why does he have to be so attractive?
"I don't think you're weird, Olivia," he said softly. "We all have our demons."
I huffed out a laugh at his words. You have no idea , I thought.
My eyes darted back up to the cut on his head and I chewed my lip in indecision. I inhaled sharply and spoke before I could stop myself and consider whether I was making a mistake or not.
"If you want to come in I can clean up that cut," I offered quickly. "I might have a bandage in my first aid kit for it." I hesitated, clearing my throat awkwardly before adding, "If you want, I mean."
A warm smile spread across his lips and I made the mistake of turning my attention on them. I felt a pang of something in my gut again before his voice caught my attention.
"I would like that," he said. "Thank you." He held up his hand, one brow quirking up on his forehead as he tentatively asked, "Would you mind guiding me in? I left my cane back in my apartment."
Slowly I reached out, gently taking him by the wrist and guiding his hand to my forearm. His fingers gripped gently around the bare skin, his thumb just once lightly sweeping across the delicate skin underneath my wrist. His mouth very faintly twitched, his tongue darting quickly between his lips, before I watched him swallow hard. Then his head tilted to the side a bit, a small smile on his face as I suddenly realized I'd just been standing there with his hand on my forearm, staring at him instead of guiding him into my apartment.
I quickly turned my head, wincing at how stupid I must have appeared, before quickly clearing my throat and leading him inside, shutting the door behind him.
"Right, so, I'm guessing the setup is pretty similar to your apartment," I said awkwardly as I led him down the entry hall. "I'll just…lead you to the couch in the living room and grab the first aid kit."
Inwardly I groaned as I led Matt to the couch.
Please tell me I'm not about to make a big idiot of myself letting my very attractive neighbor into my apartment at three in the morning.