State of Grace

The Wall, the Neighbour and the Chunk-blowing Introduction

He pins me to the wall as he continues to nibble on my ear. My left cheek is pressed against the cold robin's egg coloured wall of my bedroom. I moan as his right palm cups my breast and his left hand is at the nape of neck pinning me to the wall. I claw at the wall as I feel his right hand sliding into my panties. He would know how ready for him I am, how much I want him. My vagina is throbbing for him to make me his. He chuckles at my ear as he reaches my clit and I gasp. He doesn't say anything but I can still feel the silhouette of his infamous smirk. He starts to rub my clit and I want to scream his name and beg him to make me come for him but nothing comes out of my mouth except for short and breathy moans and gasps. He is just about to insert his fingers into me when he stops. I moan and gasp again begging him to 'not stop', he chuckles and his hand slips out of my panty. I try to turn to face him but he has still kept me pinned. He chuckles and then laughs evilly like he was the Devil. I continue to beg him and...

My eyes were wide open and I sat up straight on my bed. I looked around me and it was still dark outside. I looked at my phone and it was only four. It wasn't even dawn. I groaned as I dragged myself out of the bed. This had to stop. I absolutely cannot have dirty dreams about my neighbour every single night, I told myself as I sat on the cold toilet seat and cursed it for being cold. I agree he is hot and all but it was inappropriate even in my head.

What did I even know about him? He was some hot venture capitalist every Aunty in the building talked about; he was a fuck-boy because I saw him bringing different hot women every two days, he hated to socialize as he had thrown a tantrum when Winterfell, my cat, had accidentally went into his apartment. I hated him with all the rage and anger within me. He almost always looked refined and his words were sharp and to the point. He voice was so amazingly soothing that I wanted to choke him all the time. No pun intended.

Winterfell had followed me into the bathroom and I would never understand why she did it. What pleasure did she possibly get from watching me intently while I'm peeing? There is little Winterfell voice in my head saying, "What pleasure do you possibly get while begging him to make you come in your dreams?" I sigh as I got out of my bathroom. I needed a strong cup of coffee- the strongest to make me forget about all of that.

Since I was awake this early, I decided to take out the garbage. I cleaned Winterfell's litter box and wore my poncho, since it was cold outside. I checked the time again and it was well, five already. I put my hair in a bun and went downstairs to throw away the trash. I got back in the elevator and pressed 15. It was about to close when it opened again revealing a really sweaty and really sexy Mr. Venture Capitalist. Heat was radiating from his body as he looked past me as he walked into the elevator and my cheeks flushed as I stood beside him, my head down low. My pulse rate had risen unexpectedly high and all I could think of was the dream. He looked so damn delicious and if I could I would lick every drop of sweat trickling down his body. The next thing I did would be remembered as one of the most embarrassing thing in the history of most embarrassing things. I threw up. I puked. I puked and gagged all of my guts out on the elevator floor and what I suppose were his Nikes. He was cursing and panicking and yelling profanities all at the time but I was too busy puking.

As the elevator reached the 15th floor and the door 'dinged' open, he cursed and speed-walked towards his door and I just stood there with my face down low. I slowly walked out of the elevator towards my apartment as my self-esteem and dignity crawled behind me. I looked at his door in front of mine and sighed as I walked into my apartment.

As I was walking towards the kitchen to get some water, my eyes fell upon the large full-size mirror on my living room wall. I looked at myself from head to toe completely mortified. I was wearing a bright green poncho with a pair of cherry red pyjama pants, my hair was in a disgusting looking bun and I had under eye bags which my big ugly pair of glasses weren't concealing and like a cherry on top, I was wearing yellow slippers with yellow fur balls on them. I was looking like a freaking Christmas Elf. An elf. It was one of those rarest of the moments when you start regretting all your life choices. Why did I even possess any of these things? I wanted to burn every single piece of clothing that was covering my body into ashes. But I couldn't. I loved my red pyjama pants way too much and the green poncho was a gift from Moira's grandmother and the slippers were way too cute to burn.

I would never be able to meet Mr. Venture Capitalist's eyes ever again. I had had forever scarred his elevator experience and my dignity. I might have induced a fear of elevators in his mind. But as they say, every dark cloud has a silver lining. It at least would stop the dirty dreams. With that single positive thought I went into the bathroom to take a bath. It was better if I just got ready for work.

It was going to be a bad day and I had an even worse feeling about work today. I loved my job but three years into it and I was losing my mind. It was the same all through the day and night. Of course, I took vacations whenever needed but the work was the same 9 to 5. At times, I overstayed my working hours as working there was good and it kept me busy. I came home to Winterfell, I'd pet her as she would purr beside me on the couch while I either watched Netflix or read a book. My mother told me to cook whenever I get bored and I loved baking but sometimes you're just too tired or simply lazy. I occasionally cooked dinner for myself; it alternated among mac and cheese, pasta, ramen or something with bread. Breakfast for me was simple- a cup of coffee and Chocos. One could judge me on the basis of my choice of breakfast cereal but it's chocolate. Lunch was mostly a sandwich from a café across the office building.

I was twenty-seven and I loved my life as much as I hated it. I had friends and we would occasionally drink at our favourite bar in all of South Bombay. They would often come over to my place and I went to theirs. One of the reasons I liked them was that they were comfortable with Winterfell. Actually, they loved her. I judge people on the basis of how they treat my dear little Winterfell; while most people keep out of my way because they thought I was a part of some satanic cult, others thought I would bring them years and years of misfortune. Yes, my Winterfell was a sleek black Bombay cat. Moira, one of my best friends in Bombay, loved her way too much. That was the reason why I loved Moira to the moon and back. I had picked my friends with great precision and they were exactly the kind of people I needed in my life. Moira was a lawyer, Raunak was a stylist (he was the one, according to him, who kept us all out of a "Fashion Disaster") and Shreya was a guidance counsellor and a child psychiatrist. Mayank and Reyansh were Moira's and Shreya's boyfriends respectively and they were perfect for each other. They were all really intelligent, strong and self-reliant people who also loved Winterfell. They were the perfect set of people I wanted in my life. They were the only set of people I wanted in my life. They were only set of people I had in my life here in Bombay.