The yells and screaming could be heard all down the hall, echoing and muffling with each passing door, and if they weren't on the fourth floor, it would have been heard even from the front entrance. His yells were always deep, muffled, slurred and something always broke after his voice bellowed through the ghostly painted door. The girl was always different however, sometimes the relationship lasted a week, if they were lucky it would move to a month, but the man they chose to be with was a difficult person.
Another crash, glass breaking, bodies thudding and a struggle. Apartment 203 was always like this, so much in fact that rooms 202 and 204 were empty, and only very rarely had residents. Her garbled scream and hoarse yells were finally enough for the night. The stark white door swung open and slammed closed, in the manner that everyone (including the door) had grown accustomed to. The woman tonight had only been here for three days, that seemed to be enough for her by the look on her pale face.
Her heeled feet stomped down the hall, red hair following as she held her trench coat closer to her body. Her brown eyes locking onto the 205 resident, who merely shook his head and leaned against the door frame. Funny thing that 205 always noticed, was that the women never had any cuts or bruises on them. It must just be a yelling fest. She stopped in front of the elevator and crossed her arms, not bothering to take in how nice the building was by the intricate designs on the walls or tile that scattered along the floor. The ding came later than she would have liked, she wanted to get out of there.
The man still back in apartment 203, however, wanted nothing more than to stay there. So he did, he stood in front of his door that should have had broken hinges by now. His thin fingers gripping the beer bottle in his hands, and his black hair as messy as it could be. His knuckles white, because nothing pissed him off more than a woman who wanted more than what she was going to get. His black brows furrowed and his lip curled up into a snarl which turned into a yell as the glass shattered upon hitting the already dented walls.
Now standing there staring at the wall on the far side of the room, he still wasn't satisfied. His hunter green eyes watching what little alcohol that was in the bottle drip down the white wall. Brown glass littered the floor in all sorts of places and if he had any intention of going back to his room he'd need to be very careful. Anger was still evident, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough anymore for him to be angry, it had been five years and still bedding a woman and trying to go back to how he was before he met her, was damn near impossible. A growl left his throat as his bare and scratched up back bumped back into his door, his fingertips brushing the uneven paint and again, the glare surfaced in his eyes. He hated it there.
One hand ran through his hair, tugging on it, as if that would soothe the raging headache he hosted, throbbing so deep in his skull even his eyes pounded. Slowly he slid down to the floor, the thin dark brown carpet really doing nothing to comfort him, his fingers curled in it, attempting to rip it out and keep him grounded. No he didn't hate it there. He hated her. His teeth bared as he thought of it again, her blonde hair, her shy smile, her bright stormy grey eyes. He hated her. His mind raced on despite the sharp knife stabbing through the sides of his head, somehow in some messed up way, his mind had started thinking of her. And as much as he hated her, no matter how angry he was right then, it slowly faded. His fingers loosening in the carpet, his eyelids drooping as salt rubbed the back of his eyes. He felt shame.
He hated himself, because she was gone. He didn't know how or why, or where even. She suddenly dropped off the face of the planet away from him. He wanted to know, and if he couldn't even get that, he'd be happy to know why. He frowned, the scowl gone as hot tears fell from his beautiful eyes. She had once called them that, called his eyes "beautiful." Maybe he wouldn't be happy with why, because then, he'd want to know more. And it was getting to know the shy girl who never talked that made him fall in love with her.
Savagely, mercilessly his mind forced him into a memory, into some place dark and away from his messy apartment. He nodded off, he was okay with it most days, but others he woke up wanting to hit something. He always remembered her in the fondest ways, in the soft touches in the tender kisses and whenever they had sex. He was a guy and his mind would never forget how his name fell from her bitten red lips, never forget how her whole body blushed or how soft her skin was under his calloused fingertips.
She was still asleep, that was okay with him though. He was able to trace her skin, the curves and edges and gentle slopes of her body, he loved every bit of it, waking up to her like this. It was early morning, they had an eventful night hanging out with their friends and going home to delve into each other like there was nothing more important on this earth. His still tired green eyes studying her relaxed expression, her slightly parted lips, her gently closed eyes. And though he loved seeing the fire in the foggy depths, he was content with the way her dark eyelashes brushed her cheeks. The gentle slope of her nose and her rosy cheeks from last night still touching her skin.
His hand gently rested on her waist over the covers, the grey-white sunlight drifting through the shades onto her skin. Painting lines over her shoulders and into her hair. His body covered her bare chest and face. She squirmed toward him still on her side, still nude. He loved seeing her this way. He would never admit it to her face, because the mornings for him were always so serene, it didn't seem like there was anything else for him to do but marvel at how beautiful she was.
He shifted closer to her, their legs tangling under the dark violet covers. He craned his neck down and brushed his nose gently to her hairline, her floral scent washing over him. Like a rose, a dark red rose and something else, the closest thing he could compare the other to would be strawberries. Roses and strawberries, his mind clicked, Valentines day was coming up, that would be a perfect gift. She hated chocolate, didn't ever want anything to do with it. Always said if she wanted something sweet she would eat fruit.
His lips curled, remembering how she was all he felt, all he smelled, tasted, wanted not a few hours ago. When she wakes up she would blush and apologise or do something foolish like ask if she pleased him. She made him happy, and that's all that really mattered to him. Gently, he pressed his thin lips to her temple, and then to her forehead, and to her nose and cheek and wrapped his arm fully around her.
He shifted, laying back down again, settling on the idea of making breakfast for her in the morning, or take her out to eat. She moaned, a small sound that sounded sweet coming from her throat. He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck and curled himself around her, tangling his limbs with hers and managing to wake her up a bit as he kissed the soft skin of her collar. She sighed a happy sigh, not opening her eyes, but her hand found the nape of his neck and his scalp. Her fingers lazily swirling and rubbing through his inch long dark messy hair. He hummed against her, his eyes falling closed. His mind fading as her motions grew slower and softer. Then he was out.
The door rumbled and a thick hard pounding filled the air. He woke with a start, his body jolting and scrambling from the door, a voice came through on the other side, distorted but he knew who it was anyway. No asshole at whatever time in the morning would pound on his door like that, save for one person. "Nobody's home Drew!" Peter managed, his headache worse now. The door swung open, apparently he forgot to lock it. The man named Drew was from room 205, was an okay guy really, just annoyed the shit out of the man on the floor. Drew stood there, brown eyes narrowed and eyebrows raised, "Really, falling asleep in sweatpants and nothing else?" The man on the floor glared the best he could, holding out a hand.
Drew hauled him to his feet and let him sit on the couch, "How much did you have to drink last night Peter?" He mumbled, the dark haired man glanced up at his… friend, and then stared at the wall. The wall that wasn't dented and bashed in or stained to hell. Drew still stood there, bent over and expecting an answer from the man he had come familiar with, in the sense that waking him up for work and helping clean his apartment was getting familiar with someone. After all Drew helped Peter in the mornings after a girl or after a night of getting wasted. "Well?"
"Enough," Peter growled, he was too tired for this, and as much as he hated dreaming of her, he wanted to sleep. His eyes fell closed, he didn't care if he looked like shit, or worse, he didn't care anymore. Snapping fingers and a hand kept him up however, and he found himself loathing yet another thing. "Get up asshole, you need to go to work," Leather was cold, save for the fact he rarely used this couch, he liked it. Peter just sat there, slouched with his palms up. Work? He had forgotten, how much he had run away into his job.
That was most of what he did for a living, he ran away. Holding hands with his boss or with a bottle he ran away from her and from his memories, he ran away from the feeling of her soft kisses or the way that her hand felt in his. Now he was glaring at the coffee table, as if it was the cause of all his problems and oh how he wished it was that simple. Abruptly he stood up, waiting for Drew to move, which he did, and then Peter stalked over to his room. Avoiding glass and the burning smell of alcohol he grabbed some clothes and took a shower.
By the time he was done getting ready he was wearing a dark t-shirt and jeans that he didn't care if he got ruined. He laced up some steel toe boots and shoved his gloves into his duffel bag for work. Not bothering to look at the contents of his room, he swung open his door. When he trudged outside his messy room, Drew already managed to clean up the hallway and kitchen, and was now scouring the fridge for something to make. His hands gripping the fridge as the frown grew in size. Peter spoke up, even though he found the sight amusing, "You won't find anything, I normally buy breakfast,"
"Well that makes sense, it's like, youre trying desperately hard to look single, even in your fridge," Drew huffed, tossing Peter a weird look. Peter just sighed at the brunette and waved him off saying that he can do what he wants with the place so long as he stays away from Peter's room. Then he's off, calmly and briskly walking down the hall, silently trudging down the concrete stairs. The rubber of his boots slapping down to the final floor, he quickly made his way through the parking lot. The sky a depressing grey, it was rainy season, just out of winter so he expected them to be rain clouds. After all, the asphalt already looked damp. His eyes locked onto his dark green Chevy malibu, silently he got in, threw his things into the back and started the car. Driving to work.
Soon he was pulling into the parking lot to a car garage, where he worked to fix cars and salvage the bad parts. He mainly dealt with crashes, because he was so good at fixing things. He scoffed, of course that's ironic as hell, he just had a degree in welding and knew what he was doing when it came to metal. The glass and metal door opened silently, and he walked up to one of the many desks in the building, logging in and then pushing back into the rec room. He sighed and dropped his things into his chair, knowing that no one will touch it because it was his.
The rec room was almost as depressing as the sky, save for a few posters of women sitting on the hood of sports cars. Peter never spared the women, even inked up on a sheet of paper, a second glance. Sure he would find them attractive, but that was about it for him. If he stared at anything it would be the model of the car, most of which he knew because he used to build model cars and display them. Back when he gave two shits, anyway. He shoved the chair shut and trudged over to the tanned lockers. Viciously yanking the master lock open and ripping the locker open. He wasn't angry, well not really, he was always like this. Some how life did something or he did something to make everything run in one big cycle.
Maybe it was because he moved, away from the town he met her and away from his parents and brother. A sigh left his lips as he pulled on his work clothes, leaving the shirt tied around his waist because he didn't start for a few more minutes. Again the question raced through his head, he didn't know why things happened the way they did, he wanted to know what he did. Or what he didn't do to make her leave. He would have changed for her. He knows he would, he got into the habit of that but then again he was no longer twenty three and the people pleaser. Now he was twenty seven and not exactly a nice guy anymore.
Peter left the rec room and passed a man he worked with named Cody. Blonde shaggy hair and brown eyes, kind of lanky but smart, was a nice kid and was an apprentice when it came to changing tires, really he wanted the experience with cars now before he was tossed out. He wanted to build cars and create new models, stuff like that and Peter acknowledged him for that reason of ambition. One could say that Cody was his friend from work, but they weren't really friends, just talked and worked together. On rare occasion they would share a drink together but that was about it.
Peter's booted feet carried him across the street without problem, as there were rarely any cars out this early. His rough hands pulling open the door to the coffee shop. And the smell of coffee hitting him in the face, milk sugar and ground beans was the go to smell for him, and really just the scent woke him up, but after the dream and the night with that woman, (He couldn't recall her name) he needed a pick me up. The line only had two people in it so it didn't take long. His eyes had already become used to the earthly colors and face smiles from the people who worked there. He was almost glad that this starbucks set up shop across the street from where he worked.
When it was his turn he addressed the barista with a nod and quickly ordered what he wanted, he was a regular there and he never changed what he ordered. Though he was partially new to the area, it was still like second nature. He used to be good at getting used to things, apparently that innate talent was useless when it came to her. With a sigh his eyes fell closed, he was tired of thinking of her, tired of his mind and his want of her smell her presence her anything. "Black coffee and blueberry scone for Peter?" A girl called and his eyes opened, the shop smelled of coffee and the walls were painted green, he smirked. What was he expecting? Some checkered table cloths and booths? No, not at all. His fingers wrapped around the cup and he nodded his thanks, grabbing his little paper brown bag he quickly walked back to work.
A customer walked in a few minutes after he was settled, and some of the other guys he worked with were there too. Some mentionable others who had a degree in something to do with cars that Peter really didn't care about. He wasn't exactly a talkative person anymore. He manned the computers and the money while everyone else worked the garage. His mind drifting off until Cody clapped Peter's shoulder roughly. His cold green eyes locked onto the boys tanned face, "Yes?"
"You got a girl on your mind or something? You're really out of it today,"
"No, I'm fine," Peter growled, "I just…" He stopped dead in his sentence, his eyes catching a tuft of blonde hair. Her blonde hair. His fingers gripped the desk so hard his knuckles turned white, his posture stiffened and his eyes grew wide. Hope fluttered and ate away at him slowly and painfully and for a moment he couldn't believe it. The door swung open, and in stepped a blonde, but it wasn't her. His stomach dropped and his heart ached, he struggled not to scowl as she walked up to them.
Her tone was soft but nothing like what he wanted it to be, her face was too round and her eyes too blue. She had freckles and plump lips like she had eaten something she was allergic to. Her body was fine, and he had no shame in looking, but she wasn't interesting. She wasn't what he wanted. Duly and broodingly Peter set everything up and said that she could wait here if she wanted to. She found a spot at the far side of the room, out of his sight and he sighed. Glaring down at his clenched fists and working with the pain that had suddenly resurfaced, he scowled at how miserable he allowed himself to become. Boots sounded heavy against the checkered tile floor, his green orbs locking onto the person approaching. Cody walked up to him and smirked, mumbling under his breath with a stupid grin on his face, "She was hot."
Edit: Didn't like the chapter as a whole so I added details in and fixed some minor mistakes.