It was Saturday morning. Gavon stood in his kitchen wearing nothing but a pair of soft cotton briefs, coffee in hand, gazing out the window. Effie brushed against his calf, her tail flicking with independence.
The memory of the bearded stranger was still vivid, etched into the soft edges of his mind like a secret fantasy he wasn’t ready to let go of. But the city doesn’t stop. And neither did life.
A knock on the door pulled him out of his thoughts.
He walked over, bare feet on cold tile, and opened it without much caution. On the other side stood a man he’d only seen once or twice before in the building—tall, broad, white skin flushed from the sun, wearing a tank top that hugged his chest in all the right ways.
“Hey,” the man said, smiling warmly. “Sorry to bug you. I’m Bruno. My dad owns the building. We’re doing some work in one of the units, and I just wanted to give you a heads up in case there’s noise.”
Gavon blinked, caught slightly off guard. “Oh. Uh, thanks.”
Bruno’s eyes flicked down for a split second, no doubt catching a glimpse of Gavon’s nearly naked body, before politely returning to his face. “Didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”
“It’s okay,” Gavon replied, suddenly aware of how exposed he was. But he didn’t move. “Thanks for the notice.”
Bruno nodded, then added with a grin, “Nice cat.”
Gavon looked down at Effie, who had padded into the hallway like she owned it. “Yeah, she’s... something else.”
There was a beat of silence. Then Bruno cleared his throat. “Well, uh, if anything gets too loud, feel free to text me or knock. I’m just on the second floor.” He handed Gavon a little torn piece of paper with a number scribbled in pen.
Their fingers brushed. Gavon felt it.
“Thanks, Bruno.”
“No problem. Have a good one.”
As the door closed, Gavon stood there for a moment, holding the slip of paper, his pulse a little faster than before.
Bruno. Building owner’s son. Tall, built, friendly.
A distraction?
Or something else entirely?
The memory of the bearded stranger was still vivid, etched into the soft edges of his mind like a secret fantasy he wasn’t ready to let go of. But the city doesn’t stop. And neither did life.
A knock on the door pulled him out of his thoughts.
He walked over, bare feet on cold tile, and opened it without much caution. On the other side stood a man he’d only seen once or twice before in the building—tall, broad, white skin flushed from the sun, wearing a tank top that hugged his chest in all the right ways.
“Hey,” the man said, smiling warmly. “Sorry to bug you. I’m Bruno. My dad owns the building. We’re doing some work in one of the units, and I just wanted to give you a heads up in case there’s noise.”
Gavon blinked, caught slightly off guard. “Oh. Uh, thanks.”
Bruno’s eyes flicked down for a split second, no doubt catching a glimpse of Gavon’s nearly naked body, before politely returning to his face. “Didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”
“It’s okay,” Gavon replied, suddenly aware of how exposed he was. But he didn’t move. “Thanks for the notice.”
Bruno nodded, then added with a grin, “Nice cat.”
Gavon looked down at Effie, who had padded into the hallway like she owned it. “Yeah, she’s... something else.”
There was a beat of silence. Then Bruno cleared his throat. “Well, uh, if anything gets too loud, feel free to text me or knock. I’m just on the second floor.” He handed Gavon a little torn piece of paper with a number scribbled in pen.
Their fingers brushed. Gavon felt it.
“Thanks, Bruno.”
“No problem. Have a good one.”
As the door closed, Gavon stood there for a moment, holding the slip of paper, his pulse a little faster than before.
Bruno. Building owner’s son. Tall, built, friendly.
A distraction?
Or something else entirely?
