In Dreams

Chapter 1

"Nah," Harry said, rubbing his hand over forearm. The downy hair that dusted his skin stood up at attention; their hallway was very drafty. "I'm not much for needles and I work with kids. Don't think it would work."

"Kids?"

"Yeah, I'm a teacher. Early years."

Louis smiled and tapped his fist against his doorframe.

"Aww," he drawled, his pitch fluctuating. "Cute!" Harry's face flushed at that comment, Louis hurrying to add, "And you're not alone. With the needles thing. I had to close my eyes for my first few tattoos. But then..." He licked his lip ring and hitched his bag higher, his shoes clunking against the wall. "You get used to it." His eyes shimmered. "The pain is kind of addicting."

"I have boring addictions."

"Like what?"

Harry smiled and ran his fingers through the back of his hair, his socked toes digging into the cool tile floor.

"Nothing special. I, uh, should," he gave Louis one more small smile and gestured back to the open door of his flat, "I'll see you around."

"Yeah, sure, enjoy your weekend."

Harry heard Louis' door unlock and creak open, both of their doors mere inches from closing when Louis called, "Oh, hey," across the hall. Harry turned back to him. "How long have you been here?"

"Just about a month."

"A month!?" Louis laughed, his eyes bulging. The movement drew Harry's attention to Louis' eyes, electric blue and sparkling. "Shit, man. I had no idea. Sorry I didn't introduce myself. I've been working a lot. My business partner got married and I've been covering the shop."

"No worries. I've been sort of...Ghosting around, myself. Still getting settled."

"I should have gotten you, like, a casserole or something. Well," Louis bobbed his head side to side, "I could have learned to make a casserole and then given it to you. That's neighborly, right?"

Harry chuckled.

"It's fine. I don't even like casseroles."

"What do you like?"

Harry studied him for a long beat, the back of his neck heating. Louis stared at him with such warmth, such rapt attention, that it caused his insides to tremble a touch. Ghosting for a month and focusing on work almost made him forget what it felt like to be chatted up by a stranger.

"Um," he chuckled again, breathier, his eyes cast at the ground, "I'll, uh, answer that when I'm more awake. I'm sort of fading fast. Haven't been sleeping well in the new space."

Louis smiled easily.

"Sure thing. Get lots of sleep." He held up one hand. "See you around, mate. Let me know if you need any help settling in."

"Sure, thanks," Harry said, mirroring his motionless wave. "See you."

. . .

One thing Harry learned about his new home was that the lift was a sacred space not meant for loud noises and chit chat. Early mornings were near silent, people still half-asleep as they rode the lift to start their long, exhausting day. Those same people usually rode the lift eight hours later, even quieter and more braindead.

Harry preferred to doze off in the corner of the lift with his earbuds in and his hood pulled over his head. Maybe that was why he'd only met one neighbor for approximately five minutes since moving into the building.

He returned home after a long day and saw a white box resting in front of his door. He looked around the hallway and bent over, picking up the box. There was no postage on it, only his name scrawled in elegant, looping black calligraphy, a red heart drawn around his name. The heart was lopsided, the right peak slightly higher than the left.