The first thing I noticed when I arrived home from work that day were my roommate's new shoes. They were just laying there, amongst all the other shoes right in front of our apartment door, not fitting in.
Of course, when you live with another twenty-something girl, there are always loads and loads of shoes in the apartment. Some were scattered around messily by the door and some we kept stored away in our own rooms. My roommate and I had a habit of taking our shoes off by the door, though, so they tended to pile up and obstruct the way into the apartment.
I would not have noticed a new pair of shoes appearing in said pile, had they been anything like the shoes my roommate usually wore. These new shoes, however, were bright orange Converse All Stars, of all things. And there they were, resting uncomfortably between a pair of high heeled leather boots that practically screamed fuck me! and a pair of red stilettos. I immediately liked these new shoes, but I did remind myself to ask my roommate if she was maybe changing her style.
Then I realized that she must indeed have a guest in her room. Of course. The shoes were probably her guest's. They definitely weren't men's shoes, that much I could tell by the size of them.
I shrugged these thoughts off absentmindedly, and after shoving my own shoes in some distant corner, made my way towards my room. On the way there I grabbed a soda from the fridge. As I passed my roommate's door I stopped to listen; she was listening to music. It wasn't loud, but no matter how hard I listened, I could not hear anyone else there with her.
Huh. Maybe she did have new shoes.
In my room I slumped down on my bed, turned on my television and very much intended to stay there under the covers for a few hours. Work had been a bitch that day, I was aching all over and all I wanted to do was watch mind-numbing TV until my mind went... well, numb. I didn't even have the energy to eat, even though my stomach felt very empty indeed. It wouldn't hurt to lose a few pounds, I figured.
What I didn't intend on was falling asleep. However, my last coherent thought before unconsciousness set in was that I should buy myself a pair of bright orange Converse.
Those were some cool shoes.
When I awoke my neck was sore and my stomach was rumbling with hunger. I groaned, stretched, and got up from the bed with some difficulty. Glancing at my cell phone quickly, I found that it was eleven o'clock. Pm. Which meant that I had just slept for almost four hours.
Well, this was just great. There was no way I was going to be able to sleep through the night now. And I had to get up early for work tomorrow.
Sleepily, I decided I should take a hot, relaxing shower and eat something before trying to get to sleep again.
Grabbing my bag of toiletries and rubbing my tired eyes, I exited my room. I had to walk across the apartment to reach the bathroom I shared with my roommate. On the way there I could still hear the music in my roommate's room. The shoes by our door were untouched, as was the kitchen. She obviously hadn't been out of her room much while I was asleep.
As I removed my clothes, I silently thanked God that she didn't seem to have a visitor tonight, like she did so many other nights. I wasn't that close to her; we only talked when taking care of things like paying the bills or complaining about noisy neighbors. Usually she stayed in her room, except when she was at work or when she went out clubbing on Saturdays. That was where most of her visitors came from, actually, the clubs.
It was nice for once to take a shower knowing that I couldn't run into a stranger while only wearing a towel. It was very uncomfortable to have to look over your shoulder in your own– Wait a minute.
My towel. Where was it?
I was almost naked, getting ready to jump in the shower, when it dawned on me that my towel was still in my room.
I quickly contemplated my options. One: I could put my clothes back on, go get my towel from my room and then strip back down, again. I groaned at the thought of all that extra hassle. Two: I could walk into my room the way I was dressed now, which meant only my panties. Practically naked, as it were. But what would it really matter if my roommate saw me topless? She was a girl – and very straight. It didn't bother me, and it certainly wouldn't bother her, that much I knew from the way she was always running around the apartment in her underwear.
Hesitantly, I opened the bathroom door and peeked out.
No one in sight. Perfect.
I closed the door behind me as I stepped quietly into the hallway. I started tiptoeing towards my room, unluckily the furthest door from the bathroom. I had just started to relax a little, not even bothering to cover my chest with my arms anymore, when I heard the sound of a door opening and the shuffle of feet.
I stopped dead in my track, turned – and watched as a definitely male person stepped out of my roommate's room.
I couldn't make it back to the bathroom without going right past him and I knew I couldn't make it to my own room fast enough for him not to see me. For a few horrifying seconds he was facing the door, closing it silently and retreating like some kind of a thief, but before I could even register what was happening, he was turning around.
As his eyes took in my presence – widening at the sight – I let out a small squeak, my hands shooting up to cover my chest, just a little too late. At least judging by the way he wasn't looking at my face. Blood rushed to my face, pure shock scrambled my brain and I couldn't even move. I watched in astonishment as a smirk started to form on the guy's face.
Could this get any worse?
"Hey," he drawled lazily, finally looking at my face instead of my topless body. "You must be Bella."
"Um, y-y-yeah, that's m-me," I stammered, completely humiliated.
I couldn't make up my mind whether to run to my room, screaming like a wuss, or somehow try to make this situation less embarrassing by making it a joke. I realized that the only way to make this less embarrassing would be to act confident and not seem embarrassed.
Right. Because that was going to happen.
"I'm sorry," the guy laughed, blue eyes dancing. "I was just leaving."
"Right." I looked longingly at my door, only a few feet away from us. Did he have to open the door right at that exact minute? Two more seconds and I would have been safely in my room. "I forgot my towel," I explained.
What was I still doing standing here?
"Sure," he chuckled. "Happens to me all the time. I'm Lucas, by the way." He offered me a hand to shake.
"Um," I muttered, blushing even more and looking down at my crossed arms, still covering my chest. No way was I shaking his hand now! I mean, what the fuck?
"Yeah," Lucas said, still sounding highly amused. "Right. Sorry."
For a moment we stared at each other. My brain was gradually starting to work again, taking in the guy's appearance. I might have noticed that he looked good, but all I saw was tousled hair, swollen red lips and a button-down shirt buttoned wrong and halfway tucked in his skinny jeans. He had the look of someone who had gotten dressed in a great haste. Oh yes. He was definitely one of those visitors. Probably sneaking out before my dear roomie awoke. Classy, no?
"Well, I'll let you get back to you shower," he said finally.
He took a few steps back, still facing me, eyes trailing down my body, then slowly back up again. I let out a small sigh in relief when he was finally done checking me out and started walking away. I was just about to turn around and escape into my room – you know, to kill myself with nail clippers – when he turned around and threw me one more oh so sexy(As if!)smirk.
"I'll see you around, Bella."
I watched in astonishment as he put on "my roommate's" orange Converse, before walking out of the apartment, laughing to himself.
"Yeah," I muttered. "See ya."
How small were this guy's feet?
Restored and remastered 10/12/12
Claimer: It's all mine!