You, Love

Chapter 5: Creep

Alex was in a bad mood.

Which... was to be expected. Fallyn had been expecting it ever since he moved in— it was an inevitability, really. She'd heard from everyone that he was an angry guy. Moody.

And Fallyn had expected that anger to be explosive. He was loud when he wasn't trying to be: slamming doors, running into things. She thought she would be prepared for when that day finally came.

But expecting something and actually living through it were two different things.

Which is to say, when Alex woke up on the wrong side of the bed one morning, Fallyn found herself hiding in her bedroom.

"Dammit—!" His yell was bookended by the sound of slamming. Like he'd stubbed his toe on the door frame and punched it out of anger. Or tripped on the rug and fallen on the floor. Fallyn listened carefully for his resigned sigh and the sound of his feet continuing their shuffle around the apartment.

She didn't know what caused his anger, just that he'd practically bit her head off when she tried to offer him breakfast. She'd hung her head, cheeks going red with shame, and hadn't lifted it until she got to the safety of her room.

It wasn't her business— it really wasn't. Because she and Alex weren't really friends. They drove to and from work together every day, sure. But Fallyn didn't know his favorite color, or the names of his friends. He wasn't any of her business.

Still, as she applied eyeliner with a shaky hand with nothing but her dirty vanity mirror to show her reflection, Fallyn kind of wished she could ask him what his problem was.

"Glenn!" She flinched as Alex shouted her name through the house. Setting down the brown pencil gingerly, she leaned over to crack the door.

"Yes?" She asked hesitantly. He appeared just outside of the hallway, staring at her with murder in his eyes. Fallyn flinched and glanced away.

"Where the hell are my keys?" Alex asked like she was the one who had stolen them.

Fallyn smiled placatingly. "Are they in the bowl?"

Alex disappeared toward the door, where the bowl of keys was kept. She heard jingling through the wall and— tellingly— Alex didn't reappear outside her door. He plopped down so hard on the living room sofa that it creaked.

Taking that as her cue to hurry up, Fallyn finished getting ready and scurried out into the living room. Alex was slumped on the couch, staring off into space with a vaguely angry look on his face.

"Alex." Fallyn tried to keep her voice light, smiling in a way that she hoped was reassuring. He glanced over at her, scowling, and she clutched her purse tighter. Getting the feeling that her smile was just pissing him off more, she toned it down a little. "I'm ready to go."

He groaned and got up wordlessly. Alex disappeared into his room for so long that Fallyn thought he might have given up life altogether, but reappeared right as she was considering giving up too.

All she could do was follow a safe distance behind him as he stomped out to the car.

Fallyn still didn't feel safe in Alex's car— a little blue rust bucket that she'd heard Alex lovingly call the Chevy once. Its bones creaked when it got cold out and it hydroplaned like a cartoon. She found herself clutching the dashboard on a good day, but Alex's road rage made the situation all the worse.

"Come on!" Alex smacked the wheel, making Fallyn flinch to her very bones. "Asshole," he spat.

He was shouting at a traffic light which had dared to turn red. They weren't late, and the light couldn't hear them. Fallyn held her purse tighter to her chest, wishing she was somewhere else.