Blackwork

The New Neighbor

You have never exactly been what people would call a risk-taker. In fact, you were the goody two-shoes whom people didn't ask to copy homework from in high school because they knew you abided by the rules. It was okay back then. You didn't mind people thinking that way.

But you were now at a point in your life where you doubt this facet of your personality. You've had your heart broken countless times, and the reason was always the same: you're too good. In other words, you're boring.

"Why does it always have to be this way?" you lamented to your best friend over Skype.

"Girl, you need to loosen up a little," she said. "Live at the edge, explore!"

"I already am! I moved out!" you responded a bit heatedly.

Your best friend rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but do you even go out after work?"

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out.

"See? Just — I don't know," she said, vaguely gesturing with her hands. "Put a toe out of line for once. Just try bending the rules a little. It won't hurt." your best friend smiled at you.

You knew she was right, so you promised you'd find something you wanted to do.

· ✧. ⋆ ⊹

It was a Saturday and you wanted to sleep in, but a loud noise from outside woke you up. Irritated, you stomped outside, wanting to know what the ruckus was about.

You were very much ready to give whoever was making the noise a piece of your mind. However, at the sight of the perpetrator, your brain suddenly slowed down and your jaw dropped. Standing in the middle of a pile of boxes was the most beautiful tattooed man you have ever laid eyes on. You knew it was rude to stare, but you couldn't help but ogle. He was wearing black on black—a black t-shirt on ripped black jeans with black sneakers—and you'll be damned if he didn't look divine with all his tattoos despite the simple get up. You just stood there, basking in his presence, when he turned and noticed you.

"Hello. I hope I didn't wake you up?" he asked with a beautiful warm smile that made you speechless. He approached you, going around his boxes, and held out his hand. "I'm Hoseok, your new neighbor."

· ✧. ⋆ ⊹

Months passed and, needless to say, you developed a crush on your new neighbor. Hoseok, you learned, was a tattoo artist. Despite his profession and his decorated body, he was genuinely nice, helpful, and very gentlemanly.

There was a time when you were at your wit's end looking for a plumber late at night, and he readily volunteered to fix it for you. As you stood there watching his bare arms flex as he tackled the pipes, you were silently wishing that it was you he was tackling and your pipe he was working on.

The thought sent shivers down your spine and made your nipples visibly hard under your tank top that you had to cross your arms in an attempt to hide it from him.

"That should fix it," Hoseok said as he stood up and brushed dirt from his hands. He looked at you and motioned for you to try the tap.

After checking the tap, you thanked him. "Thank you so much for helping me. I owe you one," you smiled at him.

Then he did something you didn't know what to make out of: he looked you up and down and licked his lips.

"No problem. Call me anytime you need help with anything," he responded, still looking at you. "Well, goodnight."

"Good night," you said as you bit your lower lip.

When he was gone, you leaned against the door. "What on earth was THAT?"

There was an unmistakable sexual tension between the two of you, and the possibilities that it opened left you breathless. You wanted to act on it and you knew exactly what you wanted to do, but you were not quite sure if you had the guts to actually follow through. You needed a sign or an assurance from Hoseok that you were not making a fool of yourself. Anything to give you that boost of confidence you needed.

· ✧. ⋆ ⊹

That sign came to you in the form of Hoseok telling you he was opening his own shop downtown.