"Hello there, Mrs. Winnigan," Callan greeted with a smile as she stepped out of the elevator with a book and a basket in her hand. Mrs. Winnigan was a neighbor of hers.
The seventy year old woman nodded back indifferently. Callan had always imagined who the old woman was. She didn't seem to be have the feel of the country people in Sicily. She was sure of that. But who could old Mrs. Winnigan be?
Callan nodded back and began walking again, intending to walk around the woman to her own apartment. As she reached the door of her apartment, she took a side glance at the door opposite hers. Immediately, she noticed a difference; the locks were gone.
She whipped her head back to the door and pressed her fingerprint on the scanner. Swiftly, she entered the room and shut the door from behind.
Callan dared not stay there longer for fear he would come out suddenly. He was back. At the thought, her cheeks burned scarlet red. The embarrassment was still very fresh in her mind.
Flashback(one year ago)…
Callan stumbled out of the elevator, the weight of the grocery bags slowing her down. She held them all over her body. Two on her shoulders and two more held tightly by her fists. She had barely made it out of the elevator when her left leg hit the wall.
She stumbled and yelped, "Ow!"
The grocery bags slid down her shoulders immediately and the contents rolled off the ground. She sat down on the ground, her nose wrinkled in pain and pulled her leg. Her eyes clouded as she touched her red, swollen ankle.
"Let me help you there,"
A voice rang above her head and she could vaguely see the shadow of a man. His voice was as soft as a feather; tickling her ears. He seemed to come in front of her for a wide palm appeared in front of her eyes.
His palm was was wide and his fingers were slender and long. It looked so beautiful that she unconsciously placed her palm in his. It was only after he lifted her up and she was standing, that she jolted out of her trance from the pain on her aching ankle.
He probably had no idea of the pain in her leg for he released his hold on her and moved to picking up her stuff that rolled on the floor. Callan watched awe-struck as he grabbed the groceries and placed them all into the bags.
He turned to look at her and that was when she finally had a full view of his face. Her legs wobbled. How was someone be so handsome? He totally shamed all the girls she had ever met with his beauty. He had a well sculpted face, a pair of curved eyebrows that faced each other. Her gaze drifted to his lips. They were slightly puckered as he seemed to be talking, but she was too zoned out to hear.
As crazy as it sounded, all Callan imagined at that moment was vanilla ice cream as she looked at the figure standing a few feet away from her. He seemed so tasty.
She regained her senses and saw that he was staring at her intensely. And there seemed to be a cold light in his eyes. No matter how much Callan thought of it, she felt that he looked like a predator. She realized that he had probably seen her staring at him like a maniac.
Great, Callan. Another one to brand you as crazy.
Gathering her wits, she walked towards him. "Thanks."
"It's nothing," he replied with a smile. "You should open the door."
Callan nodded and scanned her fingerprint. The door opened and she stepped in, with him behind her. He walked in unhurriedly and placed her bags on the center table. He lifted his gaze instinctively and scanned the room. At that moment, Callan was very thankful that she had remembered to tidy up the apartment before leaving earlier. Otherwise, she would really have to dig a hole and burrow into it if he saw the mess her room was.
Callan gave a small smile. "Will you like a glass of water? I don't have tea or coffee."
"No, thanks."
He turned swiftly and made his way out. She followed behind him and when she saw that he opened the door opposite hers, her eyes widened.
He was that obnoxious neighbor!
She almost hit her own head. She should have recognized him. She could still remember the day she moved into her apartment. She had distributed a box of cookies to everyone in the building. When she knocked, though, he merely opened the door slightly as if she was about to burgle his home.
But what bothered her the most was the loud noises that came from his apartment every night. She could be sleeping peacefully in her room only for the moans to jolt her out of sleep. She could still remember clearly how the thumping and creaking of his bed woke her up the night before.
Her eyes unconsciously drifted down his figure to his third leg down there and she swallowed uncomfortably. No wonder those girls moaned so loud out of passion. He seemed to be a little… big down there?
She was no saint herself but she was very jealous. He could get any woman he wanted effortlessly. But she was sure it could probably be two years since she went on a date last. She was so envious.
He was about to walk into his apartment when she yelled, "Wait."
He paused, before turning toward her. "Yes."
"Could you lower it down every night?"
There…there, Callan. Out of all words, Callan. You had to say such a thing. Lower what down?
She stuttered, shaking her hand frantically. "I mean, I'm unable to sleep every night."
His eyes glowed suddenly as he seemed to realize what she was saying. "Oh."
"Yeah. I wake up every night…"
His expression softened. "I apologize. Don't worry. I'll do something about it."
Callan was bashful seeing the sincere expression on his face as he apologized. He seemed unfazed. She didn't realize it, but she let out a breath of relief.
He gave her a curt nod and walked into his apartment. It was only when the door closed behind him, did Callan finally realized what she had done. She nearly rammed her head into a wall. Why did she have such a blabbermouth? Her ears turned red at the thought of what they talked about. She regretted asking. It wasn't as if he was a monk. It was only natural for a man his age to have strong urges.
She blushed fiercely, opening the door and escaped into her room.
Flashback ends…