this is what falling in love feels like

dimwit

It was the curses that woke me, the faint "shit"s and "dammit"s sounding from my apartment's front door. I convinced myself they are nothing more than the television in the living room I must have somehow left on or, maybe, even the neighbors holding the volume hostage at an obnoxious number. My argument was convincing enough, especially for three in the morning, and allowed me to roll over and bury myself into the sheets without another thought. Then came the clinks and clangs of knick-knacks dropped or knocked to the ground followed by the loudest "fuck, that hurt!" of all the curses.

"What in the world?" I mumbled, barely forming a proper thought in my still sedated state. Begrudgingly, I forced myself to sit up, fumbling around the bedside table for my glasses. My eyes barely managed to open in their reluctance to force themselves from slumber, but I managed just enough to abandon the sheets with a reluctant groan.

Pulling my shirt down lower to cover my underwear before walking into this unpredictable situation, I shuffled along the hardwood floors, my fuzzy socks sliding across them with ease. I opened my bedroom door to reveal more darkness and louder curses.

The slumbered fog slowly started fading from my mind, escalating the direness of the situation at hand. The closer I walked to the light switch, the more it began to process my lack of a roommate and lack of keys other than mine and the one under my front mat. It was not the most inconspicuous place to hide the spare key, but my imagination was minimal on move-in day three months ago. The city was new, the acquaintances few, and my heart began to palpitate at a furious rate as the curiosity of whom could possibly be infiltrating my apartment at such an early hour quickly progressed into something much more.

"God dammit! Where are the fucking light switches?"

It was male, the voice, a foreign and slurred one at that, increasing the tremor of my hands as they reached for the light switch slowly. I could barely make out his shadow, lean and not much taller than I, amongst the darkness, a single strip of moon light streaking through the part in the curtains.

My hand hesitated over the switch, wondering if I should abandon the apartment while I still could instead of revealing my presence were I to turn on the light. I struggled to swallow in the midst of my contemplation, my breathing low and ragged as I forced myself to remain silent for now. I glanced over at the fire escape, wondering if I could flee down the steps before the man could spot me in the streaks of moonlight. From his slurred voice and unstable movements, I was hopeful for my escape. Yet when I finally made up my mind to flee, my hand accidentally hit the switch, and light flooded the small apartment.

"Fucking hell, that's bright!" the man screamed, adding to his resume of curses.

It took my eyes a minute to adjust to the light, my pupils slowly contrasting to take in the sight before me. He appeared not much older than me, maybe upper twenties, and clearly plastered beyond reason. His hair stuck out in all directions, the brunette falling into his eyes, shielded by his hand, and tickling the bottom of his neck. Even shielded, I saw the exquisite blue with crinkles beside, a blue somehow brighter than I'd ever seen.

It took a longer moment for his eyes to adjust, most likely due to his faded state, but when they did, my ears were not prepared for the subsequent shriek to follow.

"Who the fuck are you!" the young man yelled, jumping onto the couch beside which he had been stood. The cushions dented, and the springs creaked at the sudden increase in weight, protesting his presence just as much as me.

"Who the hell are you!" I retaliated, trying to cover the still present tremor in my hand. His eyes were wide with fear and confusion, and I'm convinced mine reflected the same.

"What are you doing in my apartment!" He flinched at the loud of his own voice, yet continued to maintain the volume in his frightened state. His claim befuddled me even more than his presence.