The Expansion of the Universe

Fifty-Two | "What the Hell?"

Thanks tiny pressure you. Before she could ponder over what he'd meant to say, he sent, preacher. Another moment, then, preaching you. What? Then, he sent another: *appreciate you. What the hell is wrong with phones? I had to type this and my damn fingers are to big god thats annoying.

Ignoring his poor use of grammar once more, she chuckled at his phone's continuous failed attempts to decode his thick accent.

It's alright. Let me know if you think of any way I can help, okay?

Sure tiny will do no pro man

A beat passed, then he corrected his phone once more: No problem. Jesus shit phones suck.

Poor Austin.

Talk to you later tiny gouda stop Eli from commitment murder.

Deciphering what he'd meant to say, she replied, I understand. Thanks, Austin.

Welcome tiny.

Setting her phone aside, she blew out a sigh and raked a hand through her hair, grimacing when her fingers caught on several knots.

Geez. She needed to shower.

She told Milo as much: "I should probably force myself into basic hygiene, what do you think?"

He released a little huff, and she snorted. "Yeah, that's what I thought." She didn't get all that dirty, considering she hardly left her condo, but still. As Whitney often pointed out, "It's amazing how something as simple as a shower can make us feel like an entirely new person, while also washing away some of our worries."

Milo popped up, off the floor, and pranced after her as she trudged up the steps to her bedroom. Closing the bedroom door and locking it—more out of habit than anything else—Liza began collecting a change of clothes, humming some annoyingly catchy pop song that Elijah had been playing on repeat the last time he'd visited, before his accident.

Milo dropped down on the bed, settling his head against his paws as he watched her, his tail wagging lazily as she bobbed her head to the beat playing in her mind.

No sooner had she finally uncovered a clean pair of socks—great, she had to do laundry, too—did a loud thud! echo through the condo. Liza stilled, turning to where Milo was now standing atop the bed, his ears perked and his head tilted to the bedroom door.

What the hell?

The sound was loud, but still seemed rather muffled, as though perhaps it had come from outside—Thud!

She jolted at the noise. It seemed to have grown even louder, that time.

Thud!

Thud!

With cautious steps, she moved towards the bedroom door, her heart pounding so hard that she could feel its every pulse in her chest. She halted, her hand just above the doorknob, when another sound made itself known. It wasn't thudding, but rather . . . voices? Talking?

Yes, the more she listened, the more she was certain that she was hearing voices. Milo began to growl, then, and she whirled to face him, a mixture of shock and panic filling her veins.

Milo didn't growl unless he felt she was in genuine danger. Milo's entire purpose was to keep her calm and safe; his growling meant nothing good.

But he'd growled at Zach, and it turned out that Zach hadn't truly meant her any harm. In fact, what if the noises came from Zach or Elijah's parents as they entered her boyfriend's condo, and she was simply hearing the sounds as they were carried from his condo to her own?