abyssal ❦ lrh

04 ➝︎ neighbors

"Thank you," his sarcasm flowed heavily from his voice, momentarily pausing before he closed her apartment door behind him, glancing at the pair. "So, we've got the rocks," his eyes shifted to Elise. "Do we have the keys?"

Elise rolled her eyes lightly. They always asked her that. He was so much like her father, even when the man wasn't there to witness it. "Yes," she sighed. "We have the ke-" she dropped her free hand have to her pockets, feeling nothing but the smooth, flat denim of her shorts, stopping her from finishing what would've turned out to be a lie. "So, maybe we don't-"

"God," She barely got the last word out with a wince before Michael was groaning, throwing her door back open. "Lisi, I am gonna put those things on a damn bell and make you wear it around your neck,"

She cringed, sending him a half-hearted, guilty expression. They'd had this exact conversation many times. "An honest mistake,"

"Mhm," he was already walking back inside, shaking his head, amused all the while at his best friend's fatal flaws: forgetful, but only when it came to her keys, and unsafe, but only when it came to locking her door. He knew he was in for hell of a year keeping both of those flaws in check- her father would have his ass at anything less. "You're the worst."

She knew he wasn't mad. She couldn't recall a time in their years of friendship when he'd ever been angry with her. He could be stern, but nothing beyond that seemed to be in his nature, especially with her. That said, he'd surely make good on that bell promise one day, and she was starting to think it wasn't such a bad idea.

"But you're the best," she replied, and the small, genuine smile on her face was a reminder that she meant it wholeheartedly. He was the best, all the way down to the smallest things, and she knew she owed him a lot- not that he could ever, ever agree with that last part.

But the first part, he did. "Obviously," he called back, in search of the forgotten keys.

"Coffee table," she reminded him, hearing a faint 'yeah, yeah' in response, drawing another small, amused smile from her lips.

She heard the soft click of a nearby door unlocking, and hadn't taken much notice of the sound, but Aiden did. Perhaps she should've. Perhaps it would've prepared her for what- or whom- her little, painfully curious brother dragged her rather ungracefully to face.

It shocked her how easily she recognized him. Every detail felt familiar, and she'd only ever seen him under the moonlight.

For a second she wondered if her eyes deceived her, for they often played tricks on her, but there was too much about him that felt so strikingly distinct, features far too memorable to forget. But even so, as he stood there in front of her with the same sharp jaw, the same sloped nose, the same mess of blond waves, and the very same silver hoop pushed through his lower lip that she could faintly recall catching in the glint of the moon that night, his presence loomed different in the day time.

He looked tired. Drained. Void of much emotion at all except the thin veil of boredom he seemed to wear at all times.

She blinked. If he recognized her, he certainly didn't show it. That said, it didn't stop him from staring at her without a hint of shame. How he could manage that was beyond her, for she could barely look him straight in the eye. She couldn't explain it, he was just intimidating, and if their previous encounter held any weight outside of their unpleasant meeting on the beach, he already didn't like her.

His eyes narrowed the tiniest bit and she swallowed. Scratch that, she thought. He couldn't stand her.

But Aiden didn't know that. "Hi!" The little boy beamed.