The Perfect Gift

Ch. 1

Nini sighs and continues her steady pace down the sidewalk, making a point to stare directly ahead.

She makes sure not to look into any of the windows that pass by, all decorated with holiday cheer.

Yes, it's the Christmas season, but she doesn't need that constant reminder, alright? Besides, all those windows are starting to blur together, they look so similar. Blankets of white fluff to imitate pristine snow, flashes and pops of bright colors to represent a different array of presents, and, of course, the pièce de résistance— the decked out, evergreen Christmas tree.

Same thing, year in, year out.

She continues her ignorance of the holiday season, now about half a block away from her apartment building. She checks her watch and hurries her pace a little, wanting nothing more than to get back home and relax into her couch. Sadly, she's a bit too tired to finish writing her song, but maybe some mindless TV won't be so bad.

At this point, she's reached the apartment lobby and turns down a hallway, toward the elevators.

She prefers the stairs, but not tonight, not when she had been on her feet all day and had to listen to Christmas song after Christmas song at work. It doesn't help that she lives on the fifth floor, either. She's just glad that a Sunday meant shorter hours co-managing the music center.

The weary brunette waits semi-impatiently for the elevator doors to open and has to hold back an annoyed "Finally!" when they do. She gets in, presses the appropriately numbered button and leans against the back of the enclosed space. She rests her head back with closed eyes, sighs tiredly, and tries to relax for the rest of the elevator ride.

"Hey, hey! Hold up!" a masculine voice shouts, ruining her peace of mind.

Her eyes snap open and she gives a startled gasp as two strong hands stop the doors from fully closing. A loud grunt sounds, and the hands grip the doors tightly, pushing them apart, before they automatically open the rest of the way.

A relieved sigh escapes and a young curly-haired man steps into the lift with her. He turns to the rows of buttons and his finger hovers over the already lit up five. He gives an amused hum and turns to her with a bright smile. "I see we're headed to the same floor," he laughs.

She blinks at him rapidly and shrugs mechanically. "Um, I guess," she mutters, sliding away from him, not keen on making small talk. She focuses on the doors as they close with a tiny ding!

She had seen him around a few times; after all, he only lives a few doors down from hers. She never caught a name, though. Ryan, maybe? She can't remember. Either way, they've exchanged pleasantries before and he seemed friendly enough. He'd moved in a few weeks back and the majority of the female residents still fluttered around him like harebrained school girls.

Nini wasn't blind, mind you. Oh no, she's clearly noticed his always carefully disheveled curls, his bright brown eyes that always seemed to gleam and spark with well intentioned mischief, and his very obviously toned—wait. Where is she going with this again?

Oh, right. Yes. He's very attractive.

But she's a twenty-three year old young woman, and she's not about to revert back and have a high schoolesque crush now, thank you very much.

That's what she tells herself, anyway, as the elevator continues the slow climb upward.

She starts to feel his gaze on her, but she stares resolutely ahead, still not interested in making any sort of small talk. He, however, seems to have other ideas in mind.

"So! You're 503, right?"

She's honestly surprised. She didn't think he knew her exact apartment number and she's not even sure if she knows his. "Yep, that's my given name," she replies quietly, keeping the surprise out of her voice. But then she shoots him a forced smile so he knows she's joking. For the most part.