The Other Side of the Door | ✔️

Two

Two
The Hot Neighbor

Elio didn't end up seeing his new neighbor again until nearly a week later— at the worst time possible, too. He was just coming back from a morning at the gym, where he spent an hour embarrassing himself and proving how low his stamina was. The Hot Neighbor, as Elio and Marissa had been calling him, was exiting his apartment just as the exhausted man made his way up the fourth flight of stairs. Elio's hair was a sweaty mess plastered to his forehead, his shirt had wet spots, and he stunk like garbage. Combined with the soaked T-shirt clinging to all the wrong curves, and his face tomato-red, Elio was sure that he was quite the sight. The Hot Neighbor looked less than thrilled to see him — in fact, he looked downright saddened.

What a great boost to his confidence, Elio thought. He just smiled awkwardly and tried to escape through his front door without looking like he was running away. Of course, he had to trip on the top step, falling face forward onto the carpet.

If only it had been a Prince Charming moment and The Hot Neighbor had caught Elio. In reality, Elio banged his knee on the floor and hit his chin so hard that he was sure there was blood in his mouth. Elio resisted the urge to cry and contemplated staying there starfished on the musty carpet. Instead, he got up on his knees, only wincing slightly, and tried to stand. It was then that a large, callused hand came into view.

Elio glanced up. The Hot Neighbor stood above him in a black sleeveless shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants. His black hair fell messily in front of his forehead, and there was a slight quirk to the corner of his lips. Elio swore he was about to drool.

"Need help?" the stranger asked, his deep voice rough like gravel.

Elio quickly took the offered hand, refusing to think about the warmth or how it completely swallowed his own. "Thanks. Wasn't looking where I was going, I guess."

Once Elio was standing and obviously fine, The Hot Neighbor nodded and swiftly walked past him down the stairs. Elio stood there in the hallway, sweaty and bruised, for nearly a minute before his brain kicked into gear and he entered his apartment.

"Oh my god, he must think I'm so stupid!" the curly-haired man muttered to himself. A bad first impression was one thing, but a bad second one as well? God, he was basically doomed to forever be an idiot in The Hot Neighbor's eyes. Or even worse, a pathetic idiot.

Elio flopped down onto his couch and groaned about his poor fate. It wasn't until a little over ten minutes later, after a shower and the start of a cup of tea, that he realized he still didn't get his neighbor's name. He set down his mug on the coffee table and pulled out his phone to call Marissa.

She picked up after the first ring. "Yeah?"

"I didn't get his name!" Elio cried.

"What? Who?" Marissa questioned, a mix of amusement and curiosity in her voice.

"The Hot Neighbor!" Elio moaned miserably. "I embarrassed myself in front of him again and he helped me up and I. Didn't. Get. His. Name."

It didn't occur to Elio that he shared a wall with The Hot Neighbor, and that he was being loud enough that the paper-thin wall between them wouldn't stop the sound of Elio's despair.
"So, you know where he lives right? Just ask," Marissa said like it was the easiest thing in the world.

"I can't do that!" Elio cried.

Marissa snorted. "Yes you can, just knock."

"Cause that's so easy!" the boy replied, distressed.

"Yes," Marissa mumbled on the other end of the phone. She sounded so done with him.

"So I can just walk up and knock on his door just to say 'hey, my name's Elio, what's yours?' and then walk away. That'll be totally normal right?"