From the moment she woke this morning, everything had gone wrong. She was beginning to feel as if she'd been cursed for some strange reason. There was a bruise blossoming on her forehead where she'd connected with the edge of the door when she'd gone to brush her teeth earlier this morning. She found it difficult to remember the last time that she'd felt this clumsy and inept. At least this was one of her days off. 'Perhaps', she thought to herself, 'It's for the best that I didn't end up driving anywhere today.' A Futurama theme song ringtone blared out of her phone, startling her. It displayed an unidentified number and she gave it an accusing glare as she grumbled, "If only there were a device that would shock the hell out of the person on the other side of the line..."
Nobody but marketing and sales representatives seemed to call, anyway. She found herself frequently wanted to pitch the infernal device out the damned window, but it was too damned useful. With a heavy sigh she leaned back into the couch, eyes narrowing as she sipped at a can of soda. Some jagoff on television was talking about a revolutionary new product that could strip floors and clean clothes, as well as being utilized as a dessert topping, prompting her to make another strafing run through the woeful selection of channels at her command.
In mid-surf the television gave out, releasing a small puff of magical blue smoke into the ether with a soft popping sound. An angry tic began jerking at the corner of her right eye as she white-knuckled the controller with a ferocity that almost had her shaking. The plastic groaned in protest under the pressure. Yep. Definitely one of those days. With a guttural growl she threw it across the room, watching it bounce off the now deceased appliance with a loud clinking sound.
"OK! I GET IT! Something MUST be pissed off at me for this much to be going wrong at the same time." Working herself into a fine incoherent rage, she quickly stood and glared up at the ceiling, yelling, "What? Just WHAT THE HELL did I do, huh? I mean, for CHRISSAKE!"
She jumped up and down several times, slamming her feet down hard on the floor in a flailing dance of frustration. Throwing a tantrum actually seemed to be making her feel better at this point and since nobody was around to witness it, she didn't have to feel utterly foolish. At the height of her frenzy, she heard a knock at the door that stopped her dead in her tracks. She crouched and peered around the corner towards the source of the noise. 'Who the hell could that be at this time of night?' she thought to herself as she wrapped the leopard print fleece robe she was wearing tighter around herself and moved through the kitchen to the front door.
She padded up to it, leaning over and squinting as she looked through the peephole to see who dared to intrude on her moment of insane catharsis. The tall, broad shouldered individual standing on the front step of her apartment seemed to fill the entire hallway. Although his head was distorted in the curve of the glass, he looked fairly attractive. She frowned and took a step away from the door, her eyes narrowing as she asked, "Yes?"
The voice on the other side of the door was a pleasant, rolling rumble. "You sounded like you might appreciate a little help." There was a brief pause, then he added, "Everything ok in there?"
She leaned forward to peer through the hole in the door again. He'd stepped back from the door a little, his lips curling into an amused grin. Cute, yes. Serial Killer? Maybe. Her thoughts chased themselves as she replied, "Yep. Everything's just fine," her tone a little hard as she grumbled under her breath, "Git along, little doggie. Go bother somebody else in the building." She continued watching him, interested to see how he'd react. Hopefully he'd just end up leaving quietly. She'd be damned if she'd open her door for a stranger, no matter how gorgeous he happened to be.
"You sure now? It sounded awful frenzied in there..."
Her frown deepened as she noticed that his grin was broader now. Oh, so that's how he's gonna play it. She squared her shoulders, grating, "I'm so very thrilled that you're this concerned for the welfare of a person that you've never even met. Really." Her voice dropped into a low growl as she spat, "Now piss off."
She watched as the man shook his head slowly, apparently in an attempt to keep from laughing. His voice echoed in the hallway as he asked, "Now, is that any way to treat a stranger with noble intentions?"
If he didn't get off her goddamned steps, she'd take out his kneecaps with the baseball bat she kept by the door. "Fuck off, monkey boy. Run along and play with whatever it is you play with - just as long as you do it away from my door."
The man crossed his arms now, the same look of amusement on his face. He showed no signs of moving.
"I'll call the cops, jerkwad. They can always throw your tight white ass into a holding pen downtown, if you like. They're very accommodating that way."
"Such vitriol for such a little girl...," She could hear him chuckling, and his expression actually softened as he added, "Does it make you feel better to keep people at a distance like this? Does it..." He paused and slowly slid his hands into the pockets of his black jeans, "satisfy you?"
Why wasn't he leaving? More to the point, why wasn't she walking away from the damned door and calling the cops already? She brushed a lock of wavy blue hair back behind her ear and stepped away from the door. "Excuse me?" Her sea green eyes flashed with annoyance under a sharp fringe of Betty Page bangs as she let out a harsh laugh and sneered, "Aren't you the little Psychoanalyst? How entertaining. Kindly get the fuck off my steps."
He was actually laughing now. It annoyed her to notice that he actually had a nice laugh. "Do you usually put up this much of a fight?" He asked.
The phone was in the next room. All she had to do was walk down the hallway and collect it. Three little numbers and she could be free of this annoying person. And yet, it was the most intriguing thing that had happened all day. Well, for a long while, actually. His voice grew quiet as he said, "Are you so certain that you want me to leave?"
It had been a damned long time since she'd been physically interested in anybody and she was startled to find that her body was definitely responding to his voice, no matter what arguments her mind happened to be making. He was obviously aware of how appealing he was and was enjoying taunting her. Both of these things should've made her want to clock him, but for some reason, she found herself curiously interested in the stranger on the other side of the door. She sighed and rolled her eyes, disgusted with her lack of willpower and common sense. "What is it, exactly, that you think you're going to get out of all this? A candy bar? A blow job? For chrissake, you could be a homicidal axe wielding maniac." She stepped towards the door, again peering out the peephole.
