One Shot Series 4

The Mysterious Neighbour

Demi's POV

The cool night air whipped harshly at my skin, and I pulled my arms in closer to my body, shoving my hands into my underarms, trying to keep in my warmth. My breath curled around me like dragon's fire, warm against the brisk autumn night around me. I wasn't entirely sure why I was standing on the black pavement, white parking lines underneath my feet; I wasn't entirely sure why I was looking at my apartment building, because it was three in the morning and really all I wanted to do was sleep. I didn't know why the boy in apartment 6C pulled the fire alarm, but I was quite sure that I wanted to wring his neck.

But instead I shivered, my tank top and shorts doing nothing to protect me against the gust of wind that came rushing through the parking lot. Maybe a frigid, "shit," would leave my mouth, and maybe, just maybe, I heard the guy next to me laugh. The poor thing. I looked up at him and recognized him as my mysterious next door neighbour, who would always pick up my mail and slide it through the door slot when the mailman was running behind. My neighbour, who was kind enough to turn his music down when I slammed on the wall separating our two flats. My neighbour, whose toned body and broad shoulders often left me wondering if he had a girlfriend or not. My neighbour, who was currently shivering in only his boxer shorts and was chuckling at my outburst.

"You must be freezing," he murmured, glancing down at me. He had his own arms tucked in closely to his sides, and I could see, even in the low light from the floodlights brought in by the fire department, that his eyes had dark crescent moons beneath them. The man needed sleep even more than I did. He ran a hand up and over his jaw, feeling the scruff that was there before looking back at me.

I scoffed and cast my glance to the ground. "You're not much better off," I smiled at his boxer shorts and bare feet.

He chuckled and turned towards me. His forehead furrowed in concentration, and his brown eyes lingered on the curve of my lips - a fact to which I was clearly aware of.

"Sorry, I don't think we've ever been properly introduced." He stuck out his hand for me to take, my hand fitting around his, feeling calloused fingertips and a firm grip. "I'm Justin." His hand lingered on mine for a moment before a loud siren from the fire truck ran through the parking lot, causing his hand to jolt away from mine. He shoved it back to his side and began shuffling his feet. I looked down at him - I had at least grabbed a pair of slippers before darting out into the night, the poor man was freezing.

"I live next door to you," he blurted out.

I smiled and blushed and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. Maybe I would've been more talkative had it been warmer out, or if it was a reasonable hour, or if he had clothes on...because I really found it really difficult to look at him without stopping my eyes from rolling over his bare torso, albeit covered with goosebumps from the cold.

"Y-Yeah," I finally stammered out, "I know. You take care of my mail all the time." I sent him a reassuring smile, a silent gesture that let him know that I really didn't care that he was handling my mail, and that his efforts were in fact appreciated. And I smiled even more when I saw him visibly relax.

"Although your music taste though, it could use some work," I chuckled, readjusting my gaze so that it once again focused in on my light pink bunny slippers. I cursed in my head, damning those bunny slippers, and regretting all the moments ruined because a man drunkenly tripped over their faces. I desperately hoped that he hadn't seen them.

Justin laughed. He actually laughed. His chest moved and his eyes closed and his mouth broke into a wide grin, it was the most emotion that you thought anyone could show at three in the morning. "You have got to be kidding me," he laughed.

"I wish," I smiled along with him. Somehow, his proximity to me had served to block out some of the wind, and his body heat was radiating off of him, as if he had just stepped out of bed only moments before. "Nah, your music taste is absolute shit."

A loud voice blared through a megaphone, calling all the attendants back into the building. A group of four boys, the group of boys from 6C, all stood next to the firemen, all looking guilty, and all looking scared. Serves them right, I thought as I shuffled my way back into the building, ever conscious of Justin's presence behind me and his hand ghosting over the small of my back. As the two of us reached your respective apartments on the second floor, he turned towards me and grinned.

"Maybe you can bring over some CD's or something," he murmured, putting a hand through his disheveled hair, "and we can see who really has the much better taste in music."

I smiled at him and bit my lip, considering his offer. He looked at me expectantly, and I took this chance to completely check him out, making sure that he noticed my movements. "Sounds like a deal," I hummed and nodded my head.

I thought I heard him mumble something along the lines of, "Cool, see you then," before he disappeared into his flat, but I never was quite sure. But when I opened my door the next morning to find a bundle of mail sitting on the floor in front of the threshold, I knew that what had happened a series of hours ago was real. Because stuck to the top letter, secured underneath a rubber band holding bills and advertisements together, was a small yellow Post-It note, reading a date, a time, and a sentence.

"I liked the Bugs Bunny slippers by the way."