Blows on the wall

3

The day began with humid air, with clouds in the sky threatening to drop the water they contained.

It seemed like one of those days when you'd spend it pulling the covers over you and drinking hot chocolate "Do I have hot chocolate? What a craving for hot chocolate in this cold" and George was well aware of it.

He searched through what little he had in the cupboard, searched and searched, but found nothing. "I should have bought more stuff last week," he said aloud.

He checked the fridge, hoping to find something to eat. He managed to spot some apples on the table after finding nothing he could eat without having to cook.

He washed one down and was about to take a bite when...

"TOC TOC!"

"Did that sound come from the door?" He walked across the living room to the small hallway, arriving then at the door.

He opened the door a little and "No one's there?"

He opened the door all the way, looked at the floor, and saw a sketch of something that looked like eyes, or rather a face he's seen all his life.

-It's... Is it me?" he muttered to himself.

He took the drawing between his whitish hands carefully, afraid of breaking it or messing up what had probably taken about 3 hours to finish.

He scanned the entire hallway, looking for the person who had left it there, but all he found was silence, plus, he saw a slightly open rather, than that of his neighbor.

Maybe he was stupidly curious and accepted being that way, although, that could lead him, to someone or something dangerous at times, a case that was not yet the case. He approached the door and peered through the small gap between it and the wall.

Boxes, pictures hung on the wall, all signed with a capital D in cursive and a flower, a cat next to its owner, letting himself be petted while his hands ran very calmly through its fur, sitting on the floor, despite having the couch in front of him.

He somewhat recognized the light blue sweatshirt he'd seen about three times in that first week while at the park at the request of his friends - Quackity more than anyone else - and had only spent it paying attention to the person he saw come in; the blond the same sweatshirt, collar and - he now knew - a couple of tattoos. But something made her more curious; she could never see his face, he was always turned away or looking down. But he couldn't have a sweatshirt that looked like someone.

Still sitting on the floor, he looked calmly at the door and George was sure he couldn't see him, because, the door seen from there didn't look open, but, that changed when a small - and strange - chuckle escaped from the person inside the apartment who was still looking in his direction.

It was then that he thought it best to leave, god, he was acting like a real stalker! And he didn't want them to think so, it hadn't even been a month.

So he got up and fled to his apartment, closing the door behind him, hoping that he hadn't seen him.

He sighed deeply "I must get it over with" he ran a hand through his hair and denied slightly "Stop being a busybody."

Another Knock Knock is heard, but this time, on the wall of his room, it was then that he looked at the drawing he still held in his hands, without any stain or color, the only thing painted were the eyes, they exploded of some colors similar to any brown chocolate, then he looked in the direction in his room.

He clenched his eyes and teeth tightly "Shit". He walked to the bedroom, leaving the drawing on the small table next to his bed.

Again the sound came on.

George leaned his hand on the wall, where the small knocks were constant. Trying to get his attention even more.

George responded to the constant knocking, which made the knocking suddenly stop.

And before all the silence, he leaned back against the back of the bed and said in a whisper:

-Good night "D".

And two taps behind his back, as if she was answering him, he smiled and closed his eyes.

_________________________________________

Hello :D

Another chapter just the next day.

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