Hotter than December

Unexpected Encounters

After breakfast and a quick shower, I decided to explore the town a bit. I step out, bundled up in my coat as soft snowflakes drift from the sky, covering everything in a fresh layer of white. The streets are bustling, with people rushing around, buying last-minute Christmas packages and decorations. It’s lively, and I can’t help but feel the warmth and excitement in the air.

As I make my way through the market, I stop by a stall selling decorations. The shopkeeper is warm and friendly, her smile wide as she helps me pick a few ornaments. “I haven’t seen you around before,” she says, looking at me curiously.

“Oh, I’m just visiting,” I reply, keeping my tone casual. I don’t want anyone to know too much about me.

Finally, I found a*****e selling Christmas trees. I spot a beautiful, perfectly-sized tree, and I know it’s the one I want. Just as I reach out to grab it, another hand does the same. I look up in surprise, and my jaw tightens when I see who it is. Darius.

“Are you following me?” I blurt out, annoyed.

He raises an eyebrow, giving me an amused look. “Not everything is about you, you know. I got here first.”

I shake my head, crossing my arms. “I saw this tree first. It’s mine.”

He smirks, crossing his arms too. “Really? Because I seem to remember my hand getting here before yours.”

We go back and forth for a few minutes, neither of us backing down. He’s stubborn, and it’s clear he’s not about to let this go. Eventually, I throw up my hands, frustrated. The shopkeeper tries to recommend another tree, but I’m too annoyed to even consider it. I turn and storm out, my frustration simmering.

This guy is starting to get on my nerves.

___________________

I get home and drop onto the couch, sighing in frustration. That whole scene with Darius has me more annoyed than I’d like to admit.

A few minutes later, there’s a knock on my door. I get up, wondering who it could be, and open the door to find Darius standing there. He’s holding a bag of Christmas decorations.

“I just wanted to talk,” he says, handing me the bag. “I noticed you didn’t buy enough decorations, so I got these for you.”

I blink, taken aback. “You didn’t have to do that. And it’s none of your business.”

He chuckles, not seeming bothered. “Are you still mad about the Christmas tree?”

I ignore his question, eyeing the bag of decorations but not taking it from him. “Thanks, but I don’t need them.” Without waiting for his reply, I close the door.

Heading back to my room, I mutter to myself, annoyed. Who does he think he is, buying me Christmas stuff like I’m some charity case? Or is he just showing off?

Darius Apartment

Darius cranks up the volume, letting the beat pulse through his apartment as he lines up his next shot on the pool table. But his mind keeps drifting back to his new neighbor Laura.

Darius POV

She’s beautiful, no denying that. The way she moves, the way she looks…it’s hard not to notice her. Those curves, that serious gaze—she’s got this presence that draws me in every time.

But she’s also a mystery. Right from the start, she’s been cold, brushing me off like I’m just some nuisance. I smirk as I sink the ball into the corner pocket. What’s her story, anyway? She acts like she’s hiding from something, like she’s put up this wall that no one can get past. Makes me wonder what she’s running from or what she’s afraid of.

Despite her attitude, I can’t help but admire her. She’s strong, smart, and yeah, stubborn as hell. I like that about her, even if she thinks she’s pushing me away. I get it, she wants her space. But that just makes me more curious. What would it take to get past those walls?

Darius vows to find out what’s really going on with her. Maybe she’s got her reasons, but he’s curious, and he’s never been good at ignoring something that catches his interest. Smiling to himself, he takes another shot and sinks the ball. Laura may think she can push him away, but he’s just getting started. With that thought, he continues his game, already planning his next move.

Laura’s Apartment

My phone rings, and I see it’s my mom, Elizabeth. I sigh, bracing myself as I answer.

“Laura!” she exclaims, her voice immediately warm but laced with concern. “Why aren’t you coming home for Christmas? We miss you so much, and it’s just not the same without you.”

“I know, Mom,” I reply, trying to sound convincing, “but I’m just... really busy. I have a ton of work deadlines, and I just can’t get away this year.”

“You always have deadlines, honey. Can’t you make an exception this once? Your father and I, we’re worried about you. You need family around you.”

I pause, searching for another excuse. “Mom, it’s really just one holiday. I promise, I’ll make it up to you. Maybe I can visit after the new year?”

There’s a silence on her end, and I can feel her disappointment even through the phone. “It’s just that you’re always so busy, Laura,” she says softly. “We just want you to be happy, that’s all.”

“I am happy, Mom,” I assure her, even though I’m not sure if it sounds convincing to either of us. “I’m just... focused right now. But I’ll see you soon, okay? Give my love to everyone.”

She sighs, clearly not satisfied, but she lets it go. “Alright, dear. Just... take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will. Love you, Mom.”

“Love you too, sweetheart,” she replies, and finally, we hang up.

I put the phone down, relieved the conversation is over, but a sudden blast of loud music from next door quickly shatters my moment of quiet. The bass thumps through the wall, rattling my nerves. Irritated, I grab my coat, march to the next apartment, and knock firmly.

No answer. I knock again, louder, but the music keeps blaring, and there’s still no response.

I keep knocking, but there’s no answer. Frustrated, I give the door a little kick, and to my surprise, it swings open. I hesitate, glancing inside. The living room is empty, and it’s late, but the music is still blaring. I step inside, just wanting to switch it off and end this noise.

As I make my way to the sound system, reaching to turn it off, I hear footsteps behind me. I turn—and freeze.

There’s Darius, standing in the doorway, a towel slung around his waist, water dripping from his hair and down his chest, showing off his toned abs. For a moment, we both just stare, equally shocked. Then, suddenly, his towel loosens and drops to the floor.

My face heats up, and I spin around, backing him immediately, feeling embarrassment and panic. I hear him gasp, scrambling to fix his towel.

“What...what are you doing here?” he asks, his voice laced with shock.

I can barely get the words out. “I...I came to turn off the music.”

Without another word, I bolt for the door, not daring to look back. I rush out of his apartment and slam my own door shut, my heart pounding wildly.