Rapture

1

I yawned and stretched out my stiff limbs as the morning light shone through my window, forcing me awake. I was lucky to get so much sleep last night—yet sobbing and shrieking seemed to tire me out that extra bit. 

With the hospitality the other tenants have, I should just be ecstatic that someone didn’t complain.

 I dragged myself to the bathroom, gawking at the haggard woman in the mirror. Her thick, brown hair was tossed wild and askew, not to mention a bit greasy, and the dark bags under her blue eyes were covered up with a layer of smeared, black eyeshadow. I only sighed, recognizing that woman as myself, and just let the degrading descriptions run through my head.

Ugly, stupid, annoying…

Knock, knock, knock!

         I jumped in fright at the sudden noise, then grew curious to see which neighbor craved to criticize me. I was the youngest one in the building, and everyone else had automatically assumed I was some wild sex machine from the moment they’d seen me. They just didn’t understand that, even if I craved it, no one would go for a girl who cowers in the corner.

I started towards the door, anyways.

Upon nearing the block of pale, splintering wood, I didn’t bother with the eyepiece. If the people in this building were deliberate enough—and they definitely were—they’d keep knocking away until I answered. But swinging the door open brought purely surprise as to who was behind it.

         I forced a small grin when my gaze met those stunning, brown eyes. It was a much better sight than the morbidly obese and cranky woman who took refuge next door.

“Um,” I began, racking my brain for a name. I’ve had several recurring customers at the restaurant I worked in—and he was definitely one of them, “How did you know where I live? W- what are you doing here?” I asked instead when I couldn’t pinpoint a title…

I didn’t want to disappoint yet another person.

“I walked you home a few nights ago… Remember?” he replied, a swatch of hope glimmering in those deep pools of brown. I answered with a simple ‘oh,’ and stepped out of the way so he could come inside. 

“I wanted to bring you breakfast…”

I looked down at the coffees he held in a small carrier, and then the two Styrofoam boxes piled atop one another. 

“You didn’t have to,” I muttered, my tone extremely serious. Why would anyone ever bother? 

“Well, what about the time I was short 5 bucks and you paid for me?” He suggested, stepping inside and looking around. I sighed, saying my thanks before leading him to the kitchen.

         My kitchen was small, leaving solely enough space to cook before it merged into my living room. I had to sacrifice a couch for a small dining area. He set the contents he carried down on the small table, opening the boxes to reveal a heap of pancakes, hash browns, and scrambled eggs.

The smell had wafted towards me, the hints of maple syrup bringing my hunger to light with a large rumble.

“Rough night?” I jumped in fright at the voice, my eyes darting to my visitor. Perhaps it was my zoning out, but the name suddenly came to me… 

Ben... 

“Yeah,” I murmured, looking down at my appearance. I wore an extremely oversized sweatshirt that I bought in the men’s clothing department at Target, and there was makeup stains dribbling down from the collar. 

“Well, I’m here if—“

“I don’t,” I put my hand up to silence him as I answered, already knowing his question. It would’ve been more fitting if he said something along the lines of;

‘Oh, I pity you. Allow me to listen to your boring problems whilst you cry on my shoulder and ruin a perfectly good shirt.’

Ben muttered something under his breath, but moved on and sat down before I could question him. I shrugged it off, grabbing plates and silverware from the kitchen before taking my own seat.

The food was savory, double the quality of any meal I could recall having. I practically moaned at the taste of it, and it was something that had to derive from the elite portion of the city. I sent Ben a questioning look, yet he only shrugged.

“Actually, Charlotte, I really wanted to ask you something…” Ben began, his voice suddenly shaky. My brow furrowed, about to usher him to continue, when my phone blasted through the apartment.

I shot up from my chair, almost knocking it over, and bounded through the living room to reach my phone. For all I knew, it could’ve been my grandmother wishing me a happy life—and I would’ve rather heard those last words than have someone else telling me she’d died. I flipped my phone open without reading the number, yet I didn’t expect the shrill voice of a coworker screaming at me from the other end.

“Where the hell are you? You were supposed to be here at 6-o-fucking-clock!” Rebecca shrieked, her voice continually rebounding only told me she had to tuck herself away in an enclosed space so no one could hear her freaking out.

I took in a gaping breath and my eyes darted towards the clock.

7:20

“You’re lucky Carla was slutting it up last night and had to put me in charge until 10, so get your ass here before you’re fired!”

The line went dead, and I shut my phone to rush towards my dresser. I pulled out a random black V-neck and some yoga pants, then rushing to the bathroom and wiping away the makeup underneath my eyes. Ben had walked in at the opportune moment—when I was in solely a lace cheekster and bra—and I could swear that I saw his face go red before he looked away.

“I’m so sorry!” He called. I really didn’t care, it was what the world tended to expect from me anyways.

“Don’t worry about it.” 

I fit my shirt on and pulled on a pair of black Vans, then grabbing my keys and heading straight for the door. 

“Feel free to stay!” I told him. I didn’t have anything of value. The worst thing he could steal would be my alarm clock—which it wasn’t like it woke me up, anyways. I quickly exited my apartment, rushing to work.