Romans & histoires Hello Neighbor

Funny, how fast a smile turned genuine once the right piece of plastic hit the counter. By the time I finished, I checked the time. Nine. My stomach reminded me, loudly, that I hadn't eaten anything substantial in longer than I wanted to admit. I found a small café two streets over, ordered something simple, and had barely taken my first bite when my phone buzzed against the table. Leo. I answered around a mouthful of food. "Hey." "You're alive. Good. I was starting to wonder." Leo's voice came through easy, a little dry, the specific brand of humor he'd perfected over years of dealing with exactly my kind of chaos. "How's Finland treating you?"

That is when he noticed, she looks so bright like the sun he hates. In the morning, he kept thinking about his neighbor. He saw a great place earlier on his news feed. It says there is a firework display later at seven in the evening, he remembers it is the yearly festival of their town. He can invite her to the bay walk. The fireworks are really gorgeous in that view. "Mom, do you know anything about our neighbor? The one in the 45th?" "I heard they are orphans. I don't know much about them. Why?"

And then, as if suddenly recalling himself, he spoke, his deep voice rumbling through the air. "Hello, my name is Gage. I'm your new neighbor." Nicole's gaze snapped back to his face, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she realized she'd been staring. "Oh, yes, hello," she stuttered, trying to compose herself. Gage's eyes sparkled with amusement as he nodded at her. "Our landlord said you might have something for me?"

He could just be one of the many men, she decided to stalk. Trent had hundreds of reasons to be concerned about his neighbor’s choice of hobby, but somehow he couldn’t work up the feeling of endangerment. Throughout the day, no matter how hard he tried, his thoughts were on his neighbor. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her. He was sure he had heard her leave or go to work a couple of times, but Trent didn’t think he’d ever actually seen her. Again, Trent shook his head and forced himself to focus on work. At the end of the day, Brad and a couple of the other guys invited him to go out for a drink. “Sure, why not. It’s Friday after all,” he replied, clearing up his work. They crossed the stree

They didn't sleep around or act crazy. When the neighbors found out what happened to me, they rallied together and organized a fundraiser for me. I didn't have to work three jobs anymore. I slowly learned that real safety didn't come from guns or locked doors. It came from people looking out for each other. In the new neighborhood, Draven made a lot of good friends. He grew brighter and more cheerful every day. The smile came back to his face. As he got better, so did I. What Rina did to us became a wake-up call, a reminder to always hold onto your values and not throw yourself into relationships with just anyone.

Not until she realized it was booming from the next-door neighbor’s room did her racing heartbeat tempered down. It was a strident rock song, probably one from the 90s, the detestable type that made her want to scream at both the artist and the listener to shut the fuck up. Joel used to love those in his teenage years, a small voice reminded her, and she grabbed a pillow, tossing it at the window facing the neighbor's. “Take that! Loser.” She yelled, grateful that the music was loud enough to mute hers.

And why did it feel like she’d just brushed against something dangerous enough to destroy her? She unlocked her apartment with trembling fingers and stepped inside, leaning back against the door once it shut. Her chest rose and fell too fast as she tried to steady herself. This was ridiculous. He was just a neighbor. A rich, arrogant neighbor with an unsettling presence. Nothing more. Yet, even as she told herself that, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had already been noticed in a way she couldn’t undo. Next door, Caeldrin Blackwood stood in silence as the door clicked shut behind him.

Beautiful things are lethal. I squint, peering into eyes of deep, burnished brown that seem to hold a hidden fire within. Flecks of amber dance at the edges, pushing back at the unnerving coldness in them. Thick, black lashes flutter against tanned, golden skin as his gaze narrows at the blood on my flimsy nightdress, and against my better judgement, I blurt, “It isn’t mine.” The man, whom I recognize from yesterday as my neighbor raises his brows as he helps me up to my feet. “Is he dead?”

Finally the doors open and I get in, just as I was about to close, I hear Nando's voice, my neighbor, screaming. - Hold it, please! - he runs toward the elevator and I stop the doors from closing. He has his hands up and stops forward, panting. - Thank you. - He hadn't yet noticed the person accompanying him. - Good morning, Nando. - he finally looks at me and smiles. - Oh, it's you! - I give a nasal laugh - Good morning, Ella. I'm super late and apparently so are you. By the way, how did you spend the evening after last night's drunkenness? - I roll my eyes.

I walked into the kitchen with my mother trailing behind me. "Glad you're finally getting to relate." My dad called from behind. I tried not to roll my eyes. If relating meant being locked up in a cupboard then I didn't want to. I entered my room and shut the curtains. The last thing I wanted to see was anything related to the house Nextdoor. As I collapsed on my bed, my eyes caught a simple lemon stick on notes plastered on my window. Curiously, I tiptoed to the window and peeled it off. Instinctively, I raised my eyes to the room opposite mine and saw someone looking at me with an amused expression on his face. It took me some minutes to recognize him.