Same Place
866 Words
VICTORIA'S POV
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"It's fine, I swear." I promise Wystan as he stares down at me with worry, his eyes flicking between the shopping bag straps hanging from my arms like bracelets.
"Your twig-like arms are going to snap," Wystan grits out.
"It's four flights of stairs, not a damn marathon." I snipe back, shaking my head. I'm not a weak girl. I haul ice hockey gear around a lot.
"I'm a big girl." I tell him, and he laughs, shaking his head, his gaze dragging towards the staircase door, a frown lingering.
"Why is the elevator not working?" He asks, and I merely shrug.
"I don't know, I haven't lived here in what feels like forever," I drawl, glancing at the note at the elevator door that says in bold letters, Repairing. "But I'd guess it's under repairs."
Wystan snorts, chin raising slightly, "I can see that," He mutters, still not moving from the spot.
"This is awkward, I'm leaving and you should too." As simple as that, I lift my arms as high as I can, "Thank you," And with that, I turn and strut from the lobby to the stairs' door.
"Your welcome!" He screams at my back as I disappear behind the door, staring up at the stairs with despair.
This stairwell doesn't have any windows, but the lights are sharp, illuminating every step with motion lights. I climb carefully, struggling to see over the four bags on each arm, but I manage to make it up to the third floor before a tall, dark presence blocks my path.
"f**k, sorry." The man says, sounding familiar-- and not the kind of familiar that has one wondering where the voice comes from, but the kind of familiar that pushes the heat to my cheeks and the urge to just look away entirely licks at my nape, excitement pulsing just below my skin.
"Tori." Ryder breathes before my eyes could find his gaze, "Hi," I breathe, sounding just as weak.
"What..." his gaze drops to the multiple bags, "Dropping off?" he asks, unbeknownst that I have an apartment here.
"Are you sneaking out?" I tease, wiggling my eyebrows at him. A rich smile blossoms across his face, eyes sparkling with amusement.
"No, I live here, remember?" he raises a brow, and my eyes widen as I blurt, "What?"
Ryder's head tilts, confusion swirling in his eyes.
"Fifth floor, don't you recognize the building you practically ran out of?" He laughs. I'm at a loss for words. He lives above me?
"Each floor looks different." I start, feeling that heat spreading to my chest, my heart beating a little faster.
"I guess I was in too much of a hurry to notice," I shrug, finding it quite strange that we will now live in the same building, a floor apart.
"Notice what?" He asks, luring me back into that net. "That it's the same building that I have an apartment in," There's excitement that erupts in his eyes.
"How long have you lived here?" I ask intrigued. How come I've never seen him here before?
"A few years, maybe six or seven." He shrugs, dismissing it as if it weren't important, but what are the odds?
How did we both end up in the same building?
"I've never seen you around here," I admit, because I surely would have recognized him, remembered him, even if I were to stumble into the lobby drunk off my ass.
"Renovated before moving in so it took a lot longer," He shrugs, and in between the moment of staring into each other's eyes and talking, Ryder took several bags off my arms, and I started walking as if it were the most natural thing in the world, as if we'd done this a thousand times before. He follows me to the fourth floor, explaining why he chose this building, explaining the safety and location to several things, and I listen intently, nodding along with every reason, because I chose it for the same reasons.
Reaching my door, I fish out the keys, halting as the key slips into the lock to turn and face him, neck craning a bit to watch him.
"You knew I wanted to live here," A statement, not a question. I remember how many times I've spoken to him about this building, how in love I was with it. A hint of a blush creeps over his cheeks, the edge of his lips quirking up into a small smile.
"It might be another reason," He muses.
"Might be, or is?" I challenge. Ryder stares into me, swiftly moving all the bags in his grasp to one hand, reaching past me to the door, unlocking it.
"Might be," He breathes as he inches closer, forcing me back into my apartment while I stare mesmerized into his eyes.
"I think that means definitely," I tease, and he laughs, a rich, deep full sound that makes me squirmy.
"Maybe it does, maybe it doesn't, but I know a way you could find out the truth," He drawls, still walking me back until we're inside, but he doesn't shut the door.
"How?" I ask intrigued, "Join me for dinner."
- Writer
