Calling Elia ✔️

C H A P T E R - O N E

If you didn't read the preface or understand it, this story will contain mature scenes.

If you do not like that sort of thing, if it makes you uncomfortable or makes you cringe; leave, please.

Please do not comment something immature or 'ew'. Just go and read something more your style, please.

Thank you and enjoy, L x

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Elia's POV. (Elle-ee-ah)

📱: It's incredible! How can I ever repay you?

I send the text to my best friend, Meg, as I wander around her gorgeous apartment.

She left the keys for me at the front desk and I let myself in ten minutes ago. I've spent every minute gawking at her beautiful flat.

Meg moved in a few weeks ago, and I still hadn't gotten around to seeing her new place, she only start living in it last week. The first two weeks were spent redecorating, and I can see that her hard work paid off.

The entire flat is painted sky blue and most of the furniture is white. It's light, open and stylish.

It makes my shitty little flat look like an absolute hole in comparison.

To be honest, mine is a bit of a hole anyway, without the comparison. I refuse to pay over half a month's wages on rent. I'd rather live somewhere shitty for a year or so and save up for my own place.

Yesterday, a pipe burst in my building, flooding the apartment above mine. We've all had to evacuate for five days, leaving me with no place to stay.

My incredible friend has offered to let me sleep on her sofa for the rest of the week.

I look around her place and feel guilty that her living room has been ruined by the piles of my stuff. I was asked to remove my things from my flat whilst they renovate upstairs. They said there was a danger the ceiling might cave, so I should take anything valuable with me. Luckily, I don't have too much stuff.

I get out my laptop and decide to work for a bit before Meg gets home.

I'm a grant writer. I write out grants for universities when their lecturers need to apply for grant money.

It's not my dream job by any means, but it pays well and I can do it from home, so there's no commute and I choose my own hours.

The only problem is, it's not a social job. Hence why I only have Meg to rely on. I don't get out much and I don't have colleagues to socialise with. Meg is my only close friend, but with someone as loud and bubbly as her, I don't really need anyone else.

I get a couple of hours of work done. I'm just finishing a draft when I hear the front door unlock.

Meg steps inside and my eyes widen as I take in her haggard appearance. She's as pale as a ghost, has a red nose and watery eyes. She has a sickly pallor and her eyes have dark circles under them.

My usually vivacious friends is a shell of her former self.

'Jesus, are you okay?' I ask, knowing that the question is a stupid one. I stand up from the table and approach her.

'I know how you can repay me for the flat,' she says croakily, stumbling into the apartment.

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