Chapter 2
1015 Words
______________________
.
.
.
It was nine in the evening and I was watching random shows on the TV when my doorbell rang.
I narrowed my eyes as I took my phone from the coffee table, going to the security app to see who was in front of the door.
The dude was in all black and had his back to the door.
Looks like typical serial killer material. I tossed my phone onto the adjacent couch and resumed watching TV. I really was not in the mood to entertain serial killers.
The doorbell rang again.
I took a deep breath.
Did this serial killer want to be serial killed or something?
I got up from the couch, put on my Pikachu slippers and waddled over to the front door, my legs asleep from the hours I had spent on the couch.
"Who is it?" I asked into the intercom.
The dude finally turned around. And my oh my, if he wasn't one fine dude.
"I am your new neighbor." His thick Italian accent sent shivers up my spine (or was it down?) and I was so so glad that there was a door separating the both of us because I would have hundred per cent embarrassed myself if we were standing face to face.
Collecting myself and clearing my throat, I opened the door.
"Hi, Alanna Gill. Nice to meet you." I gave him my sweetest grin as soon as the door was opened and he nodded, looking weirdly at me.
"Stefano Greco. It is a pleasure to meet you Ms. Gill."
Oh, my freaking hundred million Hindu gods and goddesses, his accent is EVERYTHING!
"Well, see you around." He said weirdly and I realized I had zoned out. Way to go, cloud-jumper.
I waved him goodbye and closed the door behind me, leaning against it.
A smile broke out on my face when I realized exactly what I was going to write on a brand-new book of mine.
And I had a feeling this was going to be my ticket out of all misery.
Things were finally looking up for me.
Wait, why did he come here in the first place?
.
.
.
My eyes snapped open at the sound of my doorbell.
I didn't know my sweet melodious doorbell could sound so angry!
"COMING!!!" I bellowed though, hehe, my apartment is completely soundproofed. No harm in trying, right?
I looked at the screen. It was again, my handsome neighbor. Though he looked like he could slit someone into two with the glare he had on his face.
I opened the door.
He looked angrily at me, his eyes wandering down to my flimsy pajamas momentarily before they were back on my face, a glare etched on his flawless features.
Am I weird for thinking that this dude looks absolutely gorgeous with a glare on his face? And wanting it to stay that way though the one he is angry at is me the great?
Okay, coming back to the pressing matter at hand.
"Who the hell died that you are making such a ruckus in the morning?" I raised a brow, hands on my hips.
Hot or not, you see the ugly me if you wake me up from my sleep.
"Why is your car in front of mine?" He asked - gritted out - whatever it is called.
"Because your car was in my spot?" I retorted, leaning against the door frame and crossing my arms over my chest.
"That's how you park if you find your spot taken?" He asked.
I rolled my eyes, leaned back and got my car keys from the key-hanger and looked him straight in the eye. "I don't usually let people live if they even try to take what's mine."
Mr. Stefano Greco's face scrunched up, taking what I said in. I walked over, stopping when I was right next to him.
"I might have taken acting classes at some point." I shrugged and then gave him a grin before making my way to the elevator. Did I mention that I hate elevator rides?
The dude took a moment to break out of whatever reverie he was in and joined me in the elevator.
He gave my look a once over before taking off his suit jacket and putting it over me, taking a step away from me as he did so.
I raised a brow.
Is Mr. Hottie inexperienced in the department of women?
That is so freaking cute.
Except what will happen to all my wild fantasies if I ever end up with him?
Pull your head out of the gutter woman, you barely even know him. And he could be married with kids for all you know.
"So? Who else is staying with you?"
Mr. Greco turned to me with furrowed brows. "It's just me."
I was a bit taken aback.
Firstly, at the fact that someone like me existed - you know, the kind who lives in a four-bedroom apartment alone?
And secondly, what the hell was he going to do with all those furniture? Did he work at IKEA or something?
I simply nodded, figuring that this was not the appropriate place or time for any more ice breaking.
"Where's your spot?" I asked as I walked over to my car.
He pointed in the direction where an electric pink convertible stood.
"Mrs. Nelson. Of course." I rolled my eyes.
I may not know much about what happens in this apartment complex. But I know exactly who Mrs. Nelson was. Everyone did. And even if they didn't, they wouldn't have missed that Devil's spawn chihuahua of hers.
My thumb brushed absent-mindedly over the scar that demon fangs had given me on my left index finger.
"Should I go get her?" He asked. He seemed like he was ready to take action now that he knew who was to blame for all of it.
"And?" I yawned. "The woman has two cars and spot for only one."
"Move your car." Mr. Greco waved at me dismissively.
.
.
.
_____________________________
- Writer
