Love's Inferno

Chapter 1- A Blue Snail & Lasagna

Dante

I had never so much as seen my neighbour frown.      

Never.

Although she had a highly expressive face with full, perfect bow-shaped lips which had -for the last eight weeks- remained in an unshakeable smile ever since she had moved in. Weeks of pure, unadulterated torture. Perhaps I envied her joy, the ease with which she would offer smiles to strangers- myself included. On most days, I found myself wondering what in the ever-loving fuck could make anyone as happy as that. She smiles, every single fucking time we lock eyes on the landing or pass one another in the stairwell. She smiles even though I haven't returned her smiles once, let alone her greetings which she seems to have relented on offering me for the last two weeks but who's counting ay? She smiles, in spite of the fact that the rambunctious company I keep has been cited as 'unsavoury' and resulted in the last tenant breaking their lease. I mean them breaking their lease had less to do with me and more to do with the fact that Vitto can't seem to help but sleep with them all (the shmucks who move in's girlfriends included). I'd stopped trying to intervene primarily because... I could honestly give less of a fuck. My ideal neighbour was no one but since Vito's uncle (my distant Uncle) ran this joint and needed the cash, and I sure as shit wouldn't cough up a double rent for the shit box across the hall, I could care less.

The flat across the hall wasn't that bad but it sure as shit wasn't as nice as mine. I mean the whole thing needed serious renovation and last I checked, Vitto's uncle is seventy-eight and one more overly assembled sub away from kicking the bucket. I mean I liked the old fuck well enough, I'd grown up with the guy, but as far as landlords go? Forget about it.

The guy couldn't even make it up the steps, let alone oversee the much-needed renovations to the apartments in the place. I'd done mine with little to no hassle and no raise in the rent. As for the other tenants? Well, the downstairs neighbours were almost as old as him and no one had stayed long enough across the hall for that to have even been an option because... Vitto. For reasons that evade me, Vitto had had little to no luck seducing the dungaree-wearing, croc-decorating, perfumed tele-tubby across the hall. She is...beautiful... to the point of devastation detracted only by her disposition which could be succinctly encapsulated by one word; Spongebob. She was needlessly happy and seemingly unphased by the harsh realities of the world around her but what would I know? It's not as if I spoke to the girl.

I'd made it somewhat of a point not to. Outsiders tend to be nosy and neighbours? They were the worst kind. So, keeping a distance? Well that seemed smart and my entire business hinged on being not only smart but calculating. So I had deduced, with quick calculation, that as long as we didn't speak I would be able to maintain a healthy distance from her and conversely her from my business. To be fair, none of it came home with me but the same couldn't be said of my friends or friends of ours. The point being that I had never seen her frown until this exact juncture. We rounded the corner, having just picked up a pack of smokes, and walked towards the building - with Vitto jabbering on about some or other upgrade he wanted to make to his bike when I saw her.

For once, she seemed to wear an outfit that wasn't appropriating five year old's dress culture, slick black formal pants combined with a blouse which looked like silk... brown which looked as if it had been poured onto her skin and heels. I knew she must be in heels, even from this angle, because generally, she comes up short of my shoulder. It's not hard to be when you're six three but uh... she was smaller than average. She stood now on the first step of the building, clutching a grocery bag, what must be a work bag and a purse slung from her shoulder;  depressed by the weight. She stood... frowning. I hadn't looked at her much over the past two months, no more than necessary, but I had never seen her face contorted with... well suspicion. And I found myself suspicious in return, not only of her shape-shifting capacity but of who could've placed that look on her normally friendly face.