[Celeste]
I stood frozen in place, staring at the guy hanging a duffle bag over one shoulder. His chestnut-brown leather biker jacket matched the curls that dipped over his forehead, and the black gloves on his hands only added to the rugged look. In a moment, I recognized him as the stylist from yesterday.
His eyes widened slightly, betraying his own surprise. My lips tugged into a smile, though I knew it looked awkward at best. "Good morning," I said, feeling like I should break the silence. "You must be my new neighbour. I didn't quite catch your name yesterday."
For a moment, he just blinked at me. Then, as if remembering how introductions worked, he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and stretched the other out. "Elijah Fischer."
I took his gloved hand in mine, noting how
