Control Yourself
You Again?
“And this is the master bedroom,” The building superintendent gave Shae a tour of the apartment. Shae nodded, dissecting everything from the paint on the walls, to the cleanliness of the windows. So far, the apartment was a must have.
No water marks, no chipping trim, no stained carpeting.
“Nice walk-in,” Shae mused, poking her head into the closet.
“Yes, the closet is very spacious – often a hit with female tenants,” He joked, obviously making a pun about a female’s obsession with shoe space and having a large wardrobe.
The entire apartment was a dull, creamy white colour. He said Shae could paint the rooms whatever colour she wanted, however, she was to supply the white paint and primer, if need be, to paint over if she ended up moving out. Shae could live with that.
The kitchenette area was newly renovated; the old fridge had been replaced with a brand new, stainless steel one, and well as the stove. In a small linen closet, there was a stacked washer and drier, also new.
It would’ve been stupid for Shae not to take the apartment.
She sealed the deal with the rather forward, oblivious superintendent and arranged to move in within the next three days. That gave her time to order some furniture for her rather spacious, yet empty, new lease. Jim, his name was, showed her to the door, explaining that he had some unfinished electrical outlets to replace before she moved in. After they settled with a handshake, Shae headed back through the carpeted hallways towards the elevator, her eyes darting from wall to wall, taking in the light, baby blue colour. She pressed the down arrow button and waited patiently, tapping her toes and running her fingers through her gentle waves of flaxen blond hair.
The elevator doors finally opened, a familiar face appearing as she stepped forward. She stood in the doorway for a moment, scowling at the guy. His brown eyes at first were staring upwards at the illuminating ceiling, but then a wide grin spread across his face as he looked down, his gaze falling upon Shae. Shae stood beside him, folding her arms across her chest.
“I’m going to file for a restraining order soon,” She said coolly. The guy chuckled.
“I don’t think the judge would be frowning upon me – this is my building,” He said matter-of-factly. “Who looks like the stalker now?”
Shae’s face dropped.
“You live here?” She asked, horrified. The guy just smiled.
“Yeah, that’s what I said,” He replied.
Suddenly Shae felt stupid for taking the apartment without further looking into it, not that much further research could’ve been done. She didn’t even know this guy’s name.
“Great,” She mumbled.
“I should be the disappointed one,” The guy said. “I mean, look who’s moving in to my building…”
Shae rolled her eyes.
“You don’t even know me,” She retorted.
“Like you know me either,” The guy said, folding his own muscular arms across his chest.
“I don’t really care,” Shae said coolly.
“I thought yoga teachers were all ‘peace and love’,” The guy mused. Shae snorted.
“I guess that makes you a barbaric fighter,” She grumbled, cocking an eyebrow at him. The guy rolled his eyes.
The elevator was silent for a long moment. Shae anxiously picked at her nails, twirled her hair around her finger, brushed out the wrinkles in her white sundress – anything to take her mind of the awkwardness in the steel tin. She was praying the elevator wouldn’t bust, leaving her stuck in a cramped space with the guy.
How was it that she still hadn’t caught his name?
Shae glanced sideways over at him, taking in his short, yet shaggy brown hair, and his dark brown eyes that were fixed on the illuminated numbers as they passed another floor. He leaned casually against the hand rail, his own hands tucked away into the pockets of his distressed jeans. He wore a pair of black flip-flops, as well as a white shirt with a handful of fighting logos.
Shae also noticed a few scars on his face; under his eye, on his cheek. She didn’t realize her head was craning to check out his scars. The guy looked over at her, eyebrows raised.
“Yes?” He asked. Shae immediately backed away, gulping. She shook her head, letting her arms fall to her side. The guy just rolled his eyes again, releasing a long sigh. Shae chewed on her bottom lip, glancing now and then over at the guy, taking in his height – which towered over her 5’8’’ frame – as well as his muscular build.
The ground level finally came. Both Shae and the guy left the elevator, eyes fixed on the lobby door. The guy reached it first, still being a gentleman to bitter Shae, and held it open, standing aside. Shae skeptically brushed past him, casting a glance back over her shoulder at him before she hurried for her Prius, unable to contain herself from watching the guy in her rear-view mirror casually strolling down the sidewalk. Shae sighed.
As tempting as it was, he was a fighter.
No water marks, no chipping trim, no stained carpeting.
“Nice walk-in,” Shae mused, poking her head into the closet.
“Yes, the closet is very spacious – often a hit with female tenants,” He joked, obviously making a pun about a female’s obsession with shoe space and having a large wardrobe.
The entire apartment was a dull, creamy white colour. He said Shae could paint the rooms whatever colour she wanted, however, she was to supply the white paint and primer, if need be, to paint over if she ended up moving out. Shae could live with that.
The kitchenette area was newly renovated; the old fridge had been replaced with a brand new, stainless steel one, and well as the stove. In a small linen closet, there was a stacked washer and drier, also new.
It would’ve been stupid for Shae not to take the apartment.
She sealed the deal with the rather forward, oblivious superintendent and arranged to move in within the next three days. That gave her time to order some furniture for her rather spacious, yet empty, new lease. Jim, his name was, showed her to the door, explaining that he had some unfinished electrical outlets to replace before she moved in. After they settled with a handshake, Shae headed back through the carpeted hallways towards the elevator, her eyes darting from wall to wall, taking in the light, baby blue colour. She pressed the down arrow button and waited patiently, tapping her toes and running her fingers through her gentle waves of flaxen blond hair.
The elevator doors finally opened, a familiar face appearing as she stepped forward. She stood in the doorway for a moment, scowling at the guy. His brown eyes at first were staring upwards at the illuminating ceiling, but then a wide grin spread across his face as he looked down, his gaze falling upon Shae. Shae stood beside him, folding her arms across her chest.
“I’m going to file for a restraining order soon,” She said coolly. The guy chuckled.
“I don’t think the judge would be frowning upon me – this is my building,” He said matter-of-factly. “Who looks like the stalker now?”
Shae’s face dropped.
“You live here?” She asked, horrified. The guy just smiled.
“Yeah, that’s what I said,” He replied.
Suddenly Shae felt stupid for taking the apartment without further looking into it, not that much further research could’ve been done. She didn’t even know this guy’s name.
“Great,” She mumbled.
“I should be the disappointed one,” The guy said. “I mean, look who’s moving in to my building…”
Shae rolled her eyes.
“You don’t even know me,” She retorted.
“Like you know me either,” The guy said, folding his own muscular arms across his chest.
“I don’t really care,” Shae said coolly.
“I thought yoga teachers were all ‘peace and love’,” The guy mused. Shae snorted.
“I guess that makes you a barbaric fighter,” She grumbled, cocking an eyebrow at him. The guy rolled his eyes.
The elevator was silent for a long moment. Shae anxiously picked at her nails, twirled her hair around her finger, brushed out the wrinkles in her white sundress – anything to take her mind of the awkwardness in the steel tin. She was praying the elevator wouldn’t bust, leaving her stuck in a cramped space with the guy.
How was it that she still hadn’t caught his name?
Shae glanced sideways over at him, taking in his short, yet shaggy brown hair, and his dark brown eyes that were fixed on the illuminated numbers as they passed another floor. He leaned casually against the hand rail, his own hands tucked away into the pockets of his distressed jeans. He wore a pair of black flip-flops, as well as a white shirt with a handful of fighting logos.
Shae also noticed a few scars on his face; under his eye, on his cheek. She didn’t realize her head was craning to check out his scars. The guy looked over at her, eyebrows raised.
“Yes?” He asked. Shae immediately backed away, gulping. She shook her head, letting her arms fall to her side. The guy just rolled his eyes again, releasing a long sigh. Shae chewed on her bottom lip, glancing now and then over at the guy, taking in his height – which towered over her 5’8’’ frame – as well as his muscular build.
The ground level finally came. Both Shae and the guy left the elevator, eyes fixed on the lobby door. The guy reached it first, still being a gentleman to bitter Shae, and held it open, standing aside. Shae skeptically brushed past him, casting a glance back over her shoulder at him before she hurried for her Prius, unable to contain herself from watching the guy in her rear-view mirror casually strolling down the sidewalk. Shae sighed.
As tempting as it was, he was a fighter.