𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 (𝓖𝓸𝓳𝓸 𝔁 𝓑𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻)

••• LeRoy Jones •••

2 and a half years ago...

"Yes mama, I've got everything shipped to me- no I didn't get lost," y/n sighed, readjusting her phone nestled between her head and shoulder. On the other end, her mother listed a great deal of her worries about y/n moving so far away from her, all the way to a different state only having the promise of access to a studio from a friend of a friend to begin her full sculpting career keeping her going.

Y/n perched on the mediocre apartment's kitchen counter, ankles crossed and swinging as she peered outside the small crevice that could barely be described as a window. The place wasn't exactly spacious, granted, she didn't possess much money to her name, though it had up to date appliances and a decently lit interior. Dust danced in and out of the thin slit of light provided by the crevice, falling onto the chipped wood flooring, enticing y/n to drag a finger across the counter, to which she retrieved a thin layer of grey substance on her fingers.

"L.A. has been really nice, mama."

She toyed with the dust, rolling it between her fingers before letting it fall soundlessly to the floorboards.

"Seriously... there's no need to worry about me. Mama... stop. I'm gonna start unpacking, alright? Alright. I'll call you back. Love you."

She smiled into the phone before placing it in her back pocket. Large boxes stuffed to the brim with her things surrounded her and she hadn't a clue where to start. It seemed like too much work in the end. She stared at them. They stared back.

"Well," she said aloud to no one in particular. If she wasn't going to unpack, she would clean.

Y/n retrieved a bottle of cleaner and proceeded to miraculously dig out a wrap of paper towels from a giant box, setting herself to work, vigorously scrubbing the thin film from the granite.

An hour later, there was no longer a pile of dust. It was now a heap of dampened paper towels in the middle of the floor that y/n was currently collecting. She had no access to a trashcan in her apartment, so she placed the towels in a plastic bag and unlocked the door to dump them in the trash chute located in the left corner of the apartment hall.

As she opened the door, the apartment two spaces down opened as well. 42 A was the label on the door. Instinctively, her head turned to look at whoever it was. Y/n eyes widened. Out stepped a man with light brown skin, his curly hair pulled into a slicked back bun, the sides cleanly shaven. He absentmindedly licked his smooth lips as he closed the door behind him. Y/n noticed he held a garbage bag, slinging it over his broad shoulder as he fully exited his room. By this point, she had to tear her gaze away from him. She willed her legs to move, forcing them to take one step after another as she hurriedly went to the trash chute.

Y/n attempted to open the silver latch, but it simply wouldn't budge. She noticed there was a slit for a key of some sort, which she had definitely forgotten in her room somewhere.

"Crap," she mumbled, thumbing the plastic bag. She would have to go all the way back to her room and find that damn key, it seemed.

"I forget my key all the time. It gets hard to remember sometimes," a warm voice said behind her.

Y/n whirled around to see the man, still with the trash bag in hand. He stood some distance away, presumably waiting his turn to use the chute.

"Ah, yeah," y/n chuckled politely, trying to not scream.

God, he was fine.

The man went to insert his key, now standing beside her. After heaving the large bag of trash into the gaping hole, he reached out a hand for y/n's tossing it into the chute.

"Thank you," she said softly.

"'Course," he said, giving her a bright white smile. He went to turn away, but looked her up and down like a thought crossed his mind. "If you don't mind me asking, but are you new here? I haven't seen you before."

She dipped her head in confirmation. "Mhm, I just moved in actually," y/n replied, jabbing a thumb to her room.

He looked into her eyes, nodding lightly. "Nice to meet you, then."
He offered a hand, a gorgeous pattern of tattoos expertly done on the back of his palm.

"You too," said Y/n, taking up the handshake, though the both of them held it a bit longer than it should have.

"See you around," he murmured, never breaking eye contact with y/n.

He loosened his warm hold on her fingers, then turned to leave, giving her another grin over his shoulder before going.

"Wait!" The man suddenly said, cringing at how loud he was even though they were only a few feet away. Y/n looked up, big e/c eyes on him. She watched as he fiddled with the seams of his pockets as he ran the opposing arm through his hair.

"What's... what's your name?"

"I'm y/n. Y/n L/n."

"That's a nice name."

The man smiled for what seemed the be the umpteenth time, then brought a hand to his firm chest.

"I'm LeRoy. LeRoy Jones."

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