Apartment 309 DISCONTIUNED

Moving in

"And you promise to eat all of your vegetables," Y/n carries a box while his uncle continues lecturing him, "And brush your teeth twice a day." Y/n stops and looks at him while rolling his eyes.

"I'm sure I will manage Uncle Mike. I can always take the train into Raritan," Y/n says, shifting sideways into the apartment. His father went to NYU. He stayed off-campus, which is the only reason Y/n did. Uncle Mike sighed as they both begin to unpack. The apartment was a good fit; two bedrooms, two bath, and about 1.4 sqft. This place was more modern than what his father was living in, but Y/n is the one with the rich uncle. They two move around the apartment, unpacking the items only which were essential and leaving everything else in their labeled boxes.

"I'll bring Milo up tomorrow," Mike says while leaning against the counter. He taps against the marble countertops, awaiting Y/n's input. Milo had been living with the L/n's for three years. Mike's daughter, Missy, had taken a liking to Milo when Y/n had gone away for a year. 

"Are you sure Missy doesn't want to keep him?" Y/n replies, putting away silverware. Of course he wanted Milo to stay with him, but he didn't know what his uncle thought of having the cat in his apartment. His uncle didn't like most of the things Y/n did, which is why Mike picked out the apartment. 

"He is your cat, after all."

"Yeah, I know," He can tell Mike has more to say, but the topic dies as Y/n puts away the last fork. "I'll walk with you to the train station; we can talk more tomorrow." 

"No need. I know where to go," Mike walks over to the front door. Before opening the door, he sets down an envelope and turns around towards Y/n. "Give this a read, would you?" He says as he slips through the door and on his way home. Y/n already knew the envelope well. He could probably state it word for word if he tried. Setting down the glass of water in his hand, Y/n starts walking over towards the make-shift table near the door. He picks up the envelope, trying to stop all the memories that come with it, and throws it away. Y/n walks back into the kitchen, and takes a seat on the counter.

A few hours pass as Y/n settles into his new apartment. After reading up on places to visit near him, he slid into bed. New York had never been far from his home in New Jersey, but he never wanted to explore the depths of NYC until the stalking had calmed down. He no longer needed to wear a mask to cover his face or use a fake name when ordering food, so a conventional life was now possible. The tragedy of Y/n L/n had been tucked far deeper into the minds of the average person. Of course, not everyone had forgotten. Some still have the memories of his face, how he talks, his favorite foods. But that was a story for another time.

Woken by the sound of a loud thud, followed by multiple hushed laughs, Y/n looks to his alarm clock. It was only 2 AM in lower Manhattan as the laughs continued through the thin walls. As Y/n rubs his face in annoyance, he puts on a shirt while hopping out of bed. He makes his way out of his bedroom and through the kitchen when the laughing continues to get louder. "It's two in the morning people trying to sleep," Y/n says as a short yawn follows after. He looks down the hall at the two boys lying on the ground shushing each other. 

The seemingly younger one stands up and apologizes, "Sorry, umm, Sir. We didn't know anyone else lived on this floor." He's fidgeting with his hands and avoiding eye contact. 

"I just moved in."

"Oh, so did we," The boy helps his friend up and walks towards Y/n. "I'm Peter; this is my friend Pietro. We live next door in 308 with his sister, Wanda, and our other friend, Kate."

"Are you all annoying teenagers?" Y/n asks them rhetorically. He never liked confrontation, especially with boys his age. Something his uncle would always say about how Y/n's generation killed chivalry. 

"You seem to be the same age as us, so unless you are a vampire-" The taller one, Pietro, is quickly interrupted by a sleep deprived Y/n. 

"I'm 20, what about you pretty boy?"

"19, practically the same age."

"Maybe you should learn to grow up."

"Maybe you should learn to have some fun, old man," The tension between the two becomes increasingly apparent to Peter. Slightly panicking, he walks into his apartment and walks out with a girl. Just a girl. One with auburn hair and pale green eyes. She seemed more than that; she should be portrayed in so much detail it would fill a book. When Y/n's eyes fell to hers, they couldn't leave. They reminded him of something or someone. He couldn't tell.

"Pietro, stop annoying the neighbors. Both of you inside. Now," The girl spoke with a slight accent. Y/n could tell she was trying to be intimidating. However, to him, her voice sounded so smooth and calming. She continued to lecture both boys until she noticed Y/n's eyes on her. "I'm very sorry about them. I'm Wanda, Wanda Maximoff."

"Y/n, Y/n L/n," They both shake hands as the two boys slip behind her into their apartment. Letting go of her hand, Y/n realizes his staring problem and averts his eyes back to his door. "I should get back to bed." Wanda apologizes once more, then disappears behind the door of her apartment. As he rubs the back of his neck, Y/n walks back inside his apartment and heads off to bed once more.