𖤐
Through The Window
pt. 1
Setting/Time: 2015, Michael (I'm hc that he's 17-19) still lives with his grandmother.
Summary: You've just moved into the mysterious neighborhood in which the infamous Murder House resides. You decide to take a stroll in the neighborhood one afternoon when you come across him.
Warnings: None.
Word count: 1,661
The sunlight beamed with confidence as you made your way through the front door of your family's newly purchased home. You were very satisfied with said purchase. It wasn't too big, or too small. You also really enjoyed the fact that it was a much older home, with personality. It was a little creepy, but that's exactly why you loved it. You plugged in your headphones and exited the gates of your home. Crossing the street, you noticed the murder house, at the very end of the block. You enjoyed scary stuff, yes, but the fact that multiple people had died in there and gone missing in the home, gave you chills. You almost felt bad for the poor woman living in front of the home, waking up every day, to a house that has seen so much carnage.
Walking down the sidewalk, you noticed that the other homes in the neighborhood couldn't have been much older than your home, or the murder house. You made your way down the sidewalk, getting closer to the house with each step you took.
Before you almost noticed that you had arrived in front of the murder house, something else caught your attention. To your right, a lawn, completely decorated with roses. They looked as if they've survived through at least the past winter. By the picketed fence, an older woman, planting another rose bush. It was a woman you had seen before, unloading her groceries from her car a few days prior. That's when it hit you. The poor woman who lived in front of the murder house. You quickly turn to your left and see the home, staring back at you.
"Hello, there sweetheart." You jump slightly at the southern accent coming from behind you. You turn to see the woman staring up, patting some soil onto her newly planted rose bush. "Don't worry. That house manages to grow on you," She smirked. "My name is Constance Langdon." She said, getting up and patting some dirt off of her clothes. "Hello. My name is Y/N." You replied with a weak smile, still processing her previous comment on how the murder house grows on you. "I presume you're new around here? I know almost everyone in this neighborhood. You're a new face." She says with a warm smile. "Yes I am actually," You responded. "I noticed you were admiring my roses?" Constance said.
"Yeah.. they look amazing. I was planning on having a garden of my own. But my roses always end up dying after a while, unfortunately."
"Well, darling don't fret. I know more about roses.. than anyone on the face of this planet I'm sure.." Constance responded, looking down at the roses while rubbing her hands together.
She quickly looks back up again, taking her glasses off. "Why don't you come by some time? I'd love to make you some of my traditional sweet tea. And I'll gladly tell you everything you need to know on how to keep a fresh garden. Year-round." She smiled. "Yeah! Totally! I'd love to. Does tomorrow work for you?" You asked. "That's perfect dear."
You smiled and continued on your path, while further examining the rest of her home. Before you can completely leave the sight of her house, something catches your eye. In the glass window, there stands a boy. Wavy blond hair and piercing blue eyes. He stared at you as you slowly came to a stop, returning the same glare he was giving you. You wondered if he saw you talking with Constance. Not wanting to be rude, you gave him a faint smile. He tilted his head, almost as if he was confused. Like he's unsure of what to do next. Like he hasn't had interactions with others. Suddenly, you hear a dog on the other side of the road, violently barking. You turn quickly and notice that it was almost as if the dog was acting up as a response to the boy in the window. As you turned back to examine the boy again, the window was empty. He was gone.
/ / /
The next day ~
As you finished placing your washed dishes onto a drying mat, you remembered the business you had to tend to in about an hour. You were excited to see Constance again. She seemed genuinely sweet and nice to talk to. She even offered to help you with your garden. It was something you were looking forward to. Then you remembered the boy. You thought you would be more creeped out by the interaction. But something seemed to be drawing you in. It was as if an unseen force was pulling you towards him. Though it was the last thing you expected, it was the truth.
You beat your knuckles against Constance's door, knocking three times. She quickly swung the door open, presenting a wide smile on her face. "Why hello there sweetheart." She said with a grin. "Hello Mrs. Langdon," You replied, as she gestured you to make your way into her home. She closed the door and led you to her kitchen. You caught yourself scanning her house. Not because you were interested in the contents of her home, but because you were looking for the boy again. You quickly pulled your attention back to Constance when you noticed you had arrived in her kitchen.
"Sit down darling." You did as she said, and sat down on the white chair, accompanied by a white dining table. Constance placed two tall glasses on the table as she sat herself down in front of you. "So, when did you move into the neighborhood?" She said as she took a sip of her sweet tea.
"About a couple of weeks ago."
"You're not a tourist, are you? I've seen many people move around the area just for the infamous murder house. It's quite intoxicating I must say." She says.
"No, of course not. I've heard about the house though."
"And the murders?"
You slowly nod as you drink the tea. "Yes.. all of them." She takes in a deep breath and releases it.
"Well, anyhow. So you said you like to garden?" She questions. "Well, I certainly like to try, Mrs. Langdon." You say while letting go of a chuckle. "Please, call me Constance." She smiled at you. "Don't worry sweetie, with the right materials and help from me, you'll have a garden.. almost as good as mine." Constance laughed.
As the two of you took a sip of your drinks, your eyes both divert to the tall blond boy walking into the kitchen. You almost spit your drink, seeing him much closer. Constance quickly put her tea down. Your eyes met his. You swore his blue eyes sparkled. He smiled at you, and you gave one back. As cliché as it sounded to you, it was almost as if for a moment, everything dropped in the world and the only thing remaining was your eye contact with him. His beautiful blonde hair, carefully combed, fell just above his eyes. "I'm so sorry, he has no manners-" Constance paused. "-Y/N, this is my grandson. Michael." You quickly broke your eye contact with him, and just as quickly regretting it right after. "Michael, this is our new neighbor, Y/N," Constance said, as your heart was still pounding. "Hello." He said shyly. "Hey." You quickly responded, maintaining your composure.
"Sorry grandma, I just wanted some water." Constance quickly picked up on the eye contact you shared with him and the way he looked at you. Similar to the suspicions you had about him earlier, Michael too, felt as if he was being drawn to you. Ever since he had seen you the day before, through the window, he sensed something different from you. Nothing like he's ever sensed before from others. He wasn't quite sure what it was, but he wanted-no, he needed more of it. It was like you had a white light surrounding you, a light in which no one else was ever able to possess, one in which his true nature is supposed to resist, but he simply cannot. While returning to your conversation with her, you and Constance both felt his eyes on you as he exited the kitchen.
//
"Well, it was lovely to have you over darling," Constance said as you made your way to the door.
"Thank you so much for having me, Constance."
"Sorry again about my grandson. You'll have to excuse him for his manners." She apologized. "Oh please, don't worry about it." You meant it, you didn't mind seeing him. As you exited her home, you seized one last look from Michael.
Constance quickly shut her door and turned to Michael. She made her way over to him. "What did I tell you about talking to guests Michael?" He looked at her for a moment, as his fear started to set in. "You told me it was something I should never do.." Michael looked down, voice shaking and barely leaving his throat. "Why that's exactly what I told you." Constance looked at Michael for a second. "I'm sorry. I- I just wanted to talk to her.." He said, as his eyes pooled with tears, worried about how angry he might have made his grandmother. Constance looked at him and held his face with her hands. "She's a new friend around here. Please don't drive her away Michael. Please don't do anything to her." Constance said, looking into his eyes as tears flood his face. "What makes you think I would ever want to hurt or violate her in any way? Especially her?" Voice still breaking. Constance paused for a moment, confused.
"Can I see her again? She seems nice.." He asked. Constance took a moment to study Michael and what his intentions might be with you.
"Michael if you-"
"No! Never! I just want to see her again. I told you. I would never hurt her."