More Than Roommates
“I’m barely moving.”
“Exactly.” He grins. “Perfect pace.”
The song fades but we don’t stop right away. He hums something else under his breath, some tune I don’t recognize.
A knock breaks the silence.
Seth sighs and goes to check the door. It’s the neighbor from down the hall, with a perpetually unimpressed face.
“Sorry to bother,” the guy says, “but could you maybe keep it down? Some of us have early shifts.”
Seth’s polite enough to apologize, though I can tell he’s fighting back laughter. When he closes the door, he leans his forehead against it and says, “We’re officially an old married couple now. Getting noise complaints before noon.”