𝕄𝕪 𝕆𝕟𝕝𝕪 𝔸𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕝 [𝐇.𝐒.]

Chapter Two

Amalia

We start to make our way back to my flat. About a minute into walking and I'm now realizing what I've done. I just invited a strange man back to my flat.

I can't even really see his main features. He wears these big sunglasses that cover both his eyes and eyebrows, two very important features.

He could be a serial killer for all I know. He could've tortured hundreds of men and women or he could be a pedophile. I'm just gonna ask him.

"So, you're not a serial killer right. I feel like I should ask before we get there. I'm kinda not in the mood to get murdered today, but maybe tomorrow. And if you do decide to kill me right now, can it not be in my flat cause I really don't want blood everywhere and -" I continue to ramble until he cuts me off.

"Love, I'm not a serial killer," he says with a laugh. "I feel like that's a question I should ask you since your taking me back to your flat. There could be a torture chamber there for all I know."

"Kinky," I mutter which he hears and laughs. "I'm Amalia by the way, but everyone calls me Mia or Lia. Whatever your heart desires."

"I think I'm gonna stick with Amalia. Rolls right off the tongue," he says with a smirk

Nobody calls me by my whole name, this is first.

"And I'm Harry, nice to meet ya," he says with a smile and I smile back.

Harry.

I wish I could see his entire face. I'm great at telling who a person is by their eyes. Eyes hold so much emotion. I think I'd be able to see if he's not a serial killer by his eyes.

Harry

This girl is beautiful.

I kinda wish we didn't meet with her spilling scorching hot coffee on me but in a way, I wouldn't have it any different.

She's also pretty funny too. We've been having some small talk here and there while we've made our way back to her flat. She's managed to make me laugh almost every time.

She does look a bit nervous, however. Which makes sense. I'd be a bit nervous too if I was inviting a stranger back to my house.

We walk up to a brick apartment complex. Outside are these trees, no leaves, no flowers. I wonder what they are. They're so bare.

We enter the building, walking through the glass doors. It's a modern-looking lobby. Sitting right in the center is a help desk and behind that sits a man in a navy blue uniform. To the right is an elevator and to the left of that is the staircase.

"Okay, here we are, just gotta take the steps to my floor. You'd think with the amount of money I pay for this place they'd fix the damn elevator," she scoffs

We made it up to her floor and walk up to flat number 308. She unlocks both of her locks and opens the door to let me walk in first.

Her flat is very homey. It definitely fits her personality. OHH A RECORD PLAYER. She has a whole wall filled with books and records. She has a nice white couch with different colored pillows and a couple of her walls are made of brick. It's an open floor plan so I can see the kitchen from here. It's a normal-looking kitchen but it somehow seems made for her. On my left, there are two doors which I assume are her room and the bathroom. I look back to the bookshelves and see one section of a shelf filled with black books. Interesting

I take my sunglasses off and say, "This is a very nice place, very homey."

"Why thank you, kind sir," she says with a very bad British accent.