Midnight ☆ L.H

two

9:42 pm - ANASTASIA BYNES

The fight or flight response is a physiological reaction in response to stress. These changes are caused by the activation of the sympathetic nervous system by adrenaline, which prepares the body to either challenge or flee from a perceived threat.

There is an additional response that is common but is not currently included in the human body's response.

Freeze

I freeze like I'm caught doing something explicitly forbidden in my lease agreement. The voice to my side, standing at the entrance of the stairwell, is loud enough to scare off any living thing within a ten-mile radius of us.

"What the fuck are you doing up here?"

I jump back quickly, toppling over the box of lights behind me with a thud. My hands feel cramped as I try to shield myself from the person storming towards me until the silhouette stops and stands right above me for what feels like an eternity. When my eyes adjust, all I can see is the amber glow of a cigarette, the hue bright enough just to barely illuminate the person's face.

"I-um, I'm decorating up here," My voice is as quiet as the wind surrounding us. I can't breathe, nor can I bring myself to make eye contact.

"I-um-um, I asked what the fuck you think you're doing up here? This is private property." His voice is hoarse, almost as if my presence has just woken him up minutes prior.

"I'm the new tenant. Apartment 716?" Rising up, I move my hand around to my jeans pocket to slip out the pair of keys with a jingle. His demeanor seems to stay the same: posture stiff but coming off as nonchalant as he can manage as he twirls around a cigarette.

The silence is almost deafening as I await his next words. Instead of a grumble in return, he takes one last drag before dropping his cigarette butt on the floor to meet it with a stomp of his boot. I haven't been able to make out what he looks like, but based on this first encounter, he doesn't seem the warmest.

"Don't let the door hit you on your way down," he bids.

I scoff in annoyance, raising my middle finger at his back as the steel access door shuts with a slam. I pull my phone out of my pocket to check the time, only to be met with an abundance of text messages from Connie wondering where I am and if I'm coming home for dinner.

Can't a lady get some peace?

I kick the empty boxes of lights before giving in and pulling at the bottom of them, stacking them flat as I mentally curse the very rude library staff until the roof is free of the cardboard in my hands. I trudge my way to the steel doors the mysterious man had just departed from moments prior before I halt in place once more. With a quick turn, I slowly walk towards the cigarette he had dropped and give it one last stomp for good measure before walking back towards the apartment.

"Well, aren't you a bucket full of sunshine," Connie teases as I toss my keys on the table and drop the flattened boxes with an equally depressed sigh.

"Very funny." I trudge the jacket from my figure and look over at her standing above the sink with a strainer in hand. "Spaghetti?" I attempt to mock her teasing tone earlier, just for her to snap her head at me with a smile. "I think I've met our very friendly library staff?"

"Very friendly, huh?" She smiles one last time, not picking up on my monotone sarcasm, and walks her way to the makeshift dinner table of larger cardboard boxes. She places a small bowl of spaghetti in front of me and shuffles her way to her side of the apartment.

I love Connie, I do. But this spaghetti isn't al dente.

"No, he was far from it," I mumble with a mouth full of burning hot, uncooked pasta. I'm too hungry to complain. We hadn't really eaten anything since our early lunch, and that was a quick grab-and-go from some New York fast-food place before we started unpacking. "He?" She questions with a quirked eyebrow, leaning down to toss a few noodles at Lilo who lay between us.