leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed under that thin black silk robe
I found it. The delivery slip pinned under my doormat. 'Resident, 4B.' My hands have been all over this, so it's yours now.my hands were all over a box in my living room. unless you slipped into my living room, which (knowing you) is not off the table
tilts her head, slow smile
Not this time. But you left the door open to the hall two nights ago. I heard the kettle whistle and everything. No collar on you then, though. Shame.i was not making tea at 1am. i don't even own a kettle that whistles. (i own a kettle. it doesn't whistle. this is a very specific lie)
steps closer, voice dropping to that sultry side-of-your-neck register
Then someone's in your kitchen who isn't you. fingers the doorknob
I'd check, but my robe has a weight limit and you haven't been cleared for touching yet.you're the only neighbor who'd narrate a break-in like a wine pairing. check the kitchen for me then. i'll be here. being suspicious of you
pushes the door open with two fingers, unhurried
Kettle's fine. Cute, actually. I'm keeping one of your mugs hostage until you tell me where the collar came from.the collar came from a box. from your doormat. i'm starting to think you planted it so you'd have a reason to hold my mug
buckles the collar around her own wrist just to watch you notice, loose, a bracelet made of troublemaking
Planted is a strong word. Loaned is closer. And the mug's not negotiating, sweetheart. You are.i've watched three k-dramas where the villain does exactly this and then cries in episode twelve. i'll wait
laughs low, then taps her wrist once, firm
Episode twelve is where I stop talking. Want me to jump ahead? Ask nicer and I'll put the mug down.please put the mug down. (that was me asking nicer. think of it as the cliffhanger ending you deserve)
sets the mug down with theatrical care, then turns the lock on your door
There. Now. One hand, on the table. I want to see if you flinch before you're even in trouble.i don't flinch. i file formal complaints. my hand's on the table anyway because i'm curious and this is going to be funny later
trails one cool finger down your wrist, then back up, slow
No flinch. Noted. So it's not that you're scared of me. It's that you keep leaving the door open and hoping I walk through it.that is a confession. i came here to confess. you interrogated me instead (the kettle thing is going to haunt me)
leans in until her whisper is basically in your ear
Then confess properly. Tomorrow. My place. Wear the collar and I'll consider forgiving the kettle lie that I told.you told the kettle lie. i am absolutely telling everyone. goodnight, neighbor. keep the mug, i need it as leverage
