Until you came (Zarry) /English Version

3. The New

Gigi

Furniture trucks are arriving outside. They stop directly in front of our neighbouring house. Is someone moving in next door? I dare take a look out of the patio window. Hopefully nobody will see me. After all, I don't want to seem curious. 

"Honey, will you come here please? I think we're finally getting neighbours." I call up excitedly. 

My husband casually comes downstairs and frowns his forehead.

 "Oh no! Gone are the days of silence." he says. 

His hand runs through his black hair.

 "Well, I'm glad that the Peace and quiet is finally over," I answer. 

"The middle of nowhere still makes me sick. Only old people in the area. Let's hope for a young family," I whine.

 "What do you have against old people? This was the best that could've happened". 

He runs to the fridge, takes out beer and leans against the kitchen island. 

"You're like a little girl, Gigi," he jokes. 

"Your little girl, Zaynie', I say and cuddle up to him. 

"And were you able to make out who our new neighbors are?" he asks disinterestedly and presses a kiss on my cheek. I nod. 

"Quite possible, my love," I chuckle with joy. "A beautiful young couple moves in."

Zayn's face remains unchanged.

 "Aren't you happy? They are guaranteed nice. We could become friends, spend evenings together...", I plan already in thoughts. 

"Stop it, Gigi," he shouts. 

"Stop....I don't want to make friends and certainly not with the neighbours. I want peace, time and you. That 's all I need." 

Now he pulls away from me and is heading for the window. The property next door is empty. There's nobody around. 

"You know, if you are too close with the neighbors, it will be difficult. You have to make compromises all the time and I don't want that," he adds. 

"I want to keep things the same as in the past." 

With these words he disappears into his studio and dedicates himself to art.

Taylor

It's getting late. Our furniture were assembled and set up, but dozens of boxes are in single rooms. Tomorrow we will start the unboxing. I think I'll call it a night. We are quite exhausted from the move. In the meantime I have also rejected the plan of a hot and noisy night with my husband. I am no longer able to do that.

Harry is outside in the garden and enjoys the evening air. I can see him from the bedroom window. He looks up briefly and breathes a kiss at me. I smile.

Harry

I'm standing in the middle of the garden in the twilight. It is a warm summer night. Wonderful. This is our new home now, I think. In contrast to the city I hear nothing here: no passing cars, no honking of the horn....absolute silence. Writing will be much easier for me here. There is absolutely nothing that could distract me.

When I take a look at the neighbouring building, I see a tall, slim man. He has dark hair and slightly tanned skin. The room shines in full light. Our neighbour , it comes to my mind. He seems to be my age. The light goes out and he comes onto the balcony. In the beginning darkness I see him lighting a cigarette and blowing clouds of smoke into the air.

Great. Now we also have smokers next door. I sincerely hope I am not exposed to permanent smoke. On closer look, however, I have to admit that it suits him perfectly. Yes, I even dare to say it looks hot. He looks hot while smoking I've never seen anyone smoke like that before. It suits the dark-haired one.

Zayn

 What does the new one constantly look in my direction? Does he think I don't see that?  Even when I was in the studio, he was staring into my window. That's exactly what I feared all this time - curious, annoying neighbors. I don't know what Gigi expects. Even now, while smoking, I am exposed to his gaze. Gone are the days of being alone. I breathe deeply.

He should be about my age. His stature shows it. The man is tall and strong. Otherwise I see brown, thick, curly hair...I don't see any more. It is already too dark outside. To be honest I don't really care. 

Should I greet him? After all, he lives right next to us now. I don't want to seem rude, so I clear my throat briefly to make myself noticed.

"Hey, good evening," I shout out to the curly head from the balcony.

 He seems completely taken by surprise. 

"Hey." 

He doesn't say any more than that either. His voice is scratchy and full. I like that. Well, there's just something about him and makes him interesting. Should I have a conversation now? Why doesn't he say anything? I stand on the railing, not sure what to do . We look at each other. This embarrassment kills me. I'm an artist and not good in conversation. , I think. So I turn around and go into the house and leave him alone.