The Neighbour

FIVE

🌷Anastasia🌷

I wake up to the sound of a very unsettled baby though my wall. Her screams and cries are loud enough that for a moment, I'm sure Freddie and her must be in my bedroom. It's constant and hoarse, and from that, I conclude it's been going on for quite some time. I check the clock on my nightstand, and it reads 3AM. I doubt Freddie has slept much, if at all, and after the day he's had, I take pity on him. I quickly leave the comfort of my bed and shove on an oversized hoodie. The thing might as well be a dress with how far down my thighs it goes. I then pair it with my fluffy socks and pin my hair back, preparing myself for what—quite frankly—sounds like battle.

I knock three times and wait a while before anything happens. The baby's cries get louder as Freddie approaches and once unlocked, the door swings open revealing two people who look truly fucking fed up. The baby is wiggling in frustration and Freddie—hair dishevelled—looks moments away from crying himself.

"Ana!"

"Hey," I offer.

"I can't do this—I can't do this," he insists, voice cracking. "She hates me. I can't get her to stop crying."

I step into his home and close the front door behind me.

"She doesn't hate you," I assure. "She's just getting used to you."

The baby persists and Freddie attempts to soothe her by patting her back.

"I'm letting her down. This is exactly what I didn't want to happen," he shares, eyes panicked. "My parents let us down and I hate them for it. She's going to hate me."

I don't dwell on this insight into Freddie's past. Now is hardly the time to take a trip down memory lane and break down all those barriers. My interests have certainly been piqued but for now, I'll have to put a pin in it.

"Let's go to your bedroom?" I suggest, gesturing for him to lead the way.

His face is a picture of confusion, but he doesn't question in. By now, I suspect he's too tired to argue against any suggestion I may have.

"Take your shirt off and lie down," I instruct, gently patting the centre of his bed. "You can lay her here for a minute. She'll be fine."

He readjusts his glasses and soundlessly obeys, resting the baby exactly where my hand is pointing. He then straightens and gazes at me, completely lost.

"Here," I say, moving close enough to reach the hem of his T-shirt.

I pull the material over his head and am rewarded his wonderful smell upon doing so. His gorgeous body stares back at me and for a moment, I lose sight of everything. Time ceases to exist as I slowly run my hands down his stomach, enjoying the way his heated skin feels against my fingertips. I sway a little as I become lightheaded from holding my breath. Thankfully, Freddie catches me by the waist and in doing so, brings me closer to his body.

"Now what?" he asks, breathless.

"I need you to relax," I reply, voice thick.

I'm mere inches away from his face and can sense the exact opposite happening. Freddie tenses, his entire body reacting to our close proximity. I find it so intriguing that a man with such power and perfection behind his bone structure can wear every single one of his emotions on his sleeve. He may be the most expressive man I've ever met, and fuck does it make me want him. Once again, my breath catches in my throat and just when I think my need for this man can't stretch beyond what I'm already feeling, his hands flex around my back, bringing me even closer.

"Ana—"

"Relax, Freddie," I encourage, focusing on his chest.

I love that he has a scattering of golden hair there.