Just a Matter of Time

Elisha

Being back home felt... nice, oddly. Germany had been fun, filled with new experiences and the thrill of working abroad, but nothing quite compared to Texas. There was something comforting about the familiar heat, the drawl of people's accents, and the way the sun set over the city skyline. I felt like I could breathe easier here.

As I checked my phone, a sigh escaped my lips when a flood of emails popped up. The weekend was over, and work was calling. A part of me wished I could have just one more day off to ease back into things. But that was a luxury I couldn't afford. Being a doctor meant that people always needed you, and ever since I got back, I felt like they needed me more than ever.

I headed to the closet, pulling out my scrubs and slipping into them. The familiar fabric felt like a second skin, the routine soothing in its own way. Today was going to be long—I could feel it. I was on call more now, my schedule packed tighter than a commuter train at rush hour. Not that I minded too much. It was why I'd gone into medicine, after all. But still, I wished for a moment to breathe.

Walking around my empty apartment, I was struck again by how bare it was. The place was spacious, with high ceilings and large windows that let in plenty of natural light, but it echoed with every step I took. A couch would be nice. A table, maybe even some chairs.

Kimberly had helped me secure the place before I left for Germany, making sure everything was ready for me to move in as soon as I got back. She'd done a great job, but we hadn't talked about furniture. Between work and adjusting to being back, I hadn't had the time to do much more than unpack my suitcases.

The kitchen was just as sparse, the counters empty except for a lone coffee maker I'd picked up my first day back. I grabbed a mug, pouring myself a cup and taking a sip as I leaned against the counter. The coffee was strong and bitter, waking me up instantly. I knew I'd need the energy today.

After finishing my coffee, I grabbed my keys and headed out the door, locking it behind me. The elevator was waiting, its doors sliding open with a soft chime as I approached. I stepped in, leaning against the cool metal wall as the doors closed and the elevator began its descent. I ran a hand through my hair, my mind already racing with the day's tasks.

As the elevator reached the lobby, I stepped out, still half-lost in my thoughts. I was jolted back to reality when I almost bumped into someone standing in the entranceway. I looked up, ready to apologize, and froze.

"Amara?" I said, surprise coloring my voice. It was her, looking as startled as I felt.

"Elisha?" she replied, her eyes widening. For a moment, we just stood there, taking each other in.

"What are you doing here?" we both asked at the same time, our voices overlapping.

Amara crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing into a glare that I knew all too well. "Are you following me, Elisha Franck?"

I let out an obnoxious laugh, crossing my own arms as I met her gaze. "Why on earth would I follow you? I just moved in a month ago."

She snorted, her glare not softening in the slightest. "I've been here for six months," she shot back, her tone challenging. We stood there, staring each other down like it was a standoff.

Everything was a competition with Amara, but if she thought that would bother me, she was mistaken. I enjoyed the back-and-forth just as much as she did, if not more. I brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of my nose, breathing in slowly to keep from smiling.

"Cursing Kimberly for setting me up like this," I grumbled under my breath, half-hoping Amara wouldn't catch it.

Her eyebrows shot up, a puzzled look crossing her face. "Setting up? What are you talking about?" she asked, her arms still crossed defensively. "If anyone should be mad, it's me. Now I have to see your face every day."

I raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth. "You act like this is some kind of hardship. God forbid you have to see the one person who keeps your life sane."

She rolled her eyes but didn't drop the glare. "God truly can't give me a break from you," I added, leaning casually against the wall, knowing it would irritate her.

Amara gave a small nod, her lips pursed. "No, apparently not. Because clearly, the universe thinks we need more practice at driving each other insane."

"Must you be so hostile this early?" I said, unable to resist pushing her buttons a little more.

Her eyes widened for a split second before she regained her composure. "Me hostile?" she retorted. "If anything, you started this by not telling me when you returned."

I laughed, genuinely amused. "I apologized yesterday Mara, how long will you be upset?"

She hesitated, and for a brief moment, I thought I saw the hint of a smile twitch at the corners of her mouth. But then it was gone, replaced by her usual determined expression. "Till I die," she said dismissively. "I'll be praying for your poor neighbors. They have no idea what they've gotten themselves into."

I chuckled, straightening up. "I'm sure they'll survive. After all, you're the real handful around here."

She uncrossed her arms, rolling her eyes again, but I caught the faintest glimmer of amusement in her gaze. "Whatever. Just stay out of my way, Franck."

"Sure," I replied, stepping past her. "See you around, Mara."

"Don't call me that!" She shouted.

As I walked towards the exit, I could feel her eyes on my back, her presence lingering in the air. Despite our usual banter, there was a certain comfort in knowing Amara was in the same building. As much as we bickered, there was a familiarity to it, a rhythm we'd developed over years of growing up next door to each other.