Bill Skarsgård • Roman Godfrey Imagines

Neighbors-Axel Cluney-part 3

Part thweee

It's been nearly a week since your last encounter with Axel, the memory still haunting you and making your skin crawl as soon as you wake up in the morning. You can't believe you almost told him, out of all people, something you wouldn't even tell your closest friends because of how embarrassing it is.

So you avoided him at all costs up until this moment, dodging him when you'd both walk out of your doors, moving into the next room when he was using the laundry room downstairs; literally anything that involved you being around him, was avoided.

But unfortunately, Axel seems to be like a magnet and you feel as if it's becoming impossible to stay away from him. Maybe the universe is trying to tell you something, at least that's what you begin to believe right in this moment; as the tall, slender heathen stands in front of your car with his arms crossed, trying to figure out how your 2002 model Honda seemed to keep running for this long.

"Can you fix it?" You ask through gritted teeth, feeling your insides twist at the irony of the entire situation unfolding before you. As it turns out, Axel happens to own a mechanics repair shop right next to the cafe you go to every weekend for their fresh strawberry crepes. How lovely, thanks God. You roll your eyes at the fact that this entire encounter is even happening.

Of course he'd own the only auto repair shop for miles. Why wouldn't he? Why wouldn't the universe want to fuck you over for the hundredth time? He rubs his scruffy chin with his thumb and index finger, stepping closer to the car before squatting down and looking into the rusty opened hood. He makes a humming noise, as if pondering. You roll your eyes, clearing your throat to let him know you'd like an answer now.

"Sorry sugar, the engines blown out completely. What the fuck did you even do? Go on a high speed chase in your metal bucket?" He stands back up and wipes his hands on his dirty, oil stained pants, turning around to face you just in time to see the look of spite drawn across your features. "You look like you steal women's purses to sell for drug money for a living. Don't talk about my car."

His eyebrows quirk up at your harsh comment, a laugh squeezing from the back of his throat as he gawks at you. "Oh I'm sorry princess, are you forgetting we live in the same shitty apartment building? Or that you came to me for help so I could fix your car? Listen I'm sorry I asked you about your problems the other day, it wasn't my business, but don't insult me. You don't know me, not one bit. You can leave now."

His bold statement leaves your eyes wide and a bitter taste in your mouth, the sudden realization that maybe you are becoming the obnoxiously rude one; hitting you right in the gut. You swallow hard, watching as he turns his back towards you and gathers dirty rags in his hands, trying to organize what he can before the day is over with.

It's in this moment that something comes over you, maybe a revelation or maybe you just don't like being told the truth; but as you stare at his broad back, watching his shoulder blades move underneath his tank top and examining the slightest hint of exasperation on the only part of his face you can see, you feel quite disappointed in yourself.

Maybe you are the one who made things so aggressive and rude between you and Axel, not intentionally of course but you still yelled at him when in reality, as you look back at it, you could have been a little nicer. You can't even believe what you're doing, not until the words are already slipping past your lips and causing his ears to quirk up.

"I'm sorry." You say. Simple, loud enough for him to hear, and without a malicious undertone. He fiddles with the torn red rag in his large hands, nimble fingertips picking at it before he throws it down on the small table beside him as he turns back around to face you.  He steps closer, and for the first time, you're thoroughly intimidated.