Next Door Neighbor

1

Every night for the past week I have heard music from my neighbor. Banging of drums, loud bass that came from guitars, end even singing but that's the one that is muffled. I was becoming sick and tired of falling asleep to what sounded like hard rock. I wanted peace and quiet for when I read, cook, or even clean.  Soft french music is what I listen to along with classical music. Not rock. It's too loud and hurts my head. 

It was currently 8pm and I was finishing up my reading on The Great Gatsby. The music from next door was still playing and I had partially blocked it out until there was a crash. I rolled my eyes and continued to read. 

The crashing continued and I concluded it was from the cymbals. I slapped my book down on my lap and looked towards my door, debating wether or not to confront the loud neighbor. I shrugged the thought off and rolled my eyes, continuing the book. 

Only moments later I was interrupted with more drums. That's it.

I closed the book and rushed to my door, slipping on my white slippers, and heading out. The door wasn't far from mine. With the apartment complex being small, it didn't take long for me to reach it.

 As soon as I was in front of the door my fist connected with it, quite loudly in fact. I waited about thirty seconds and then knocked again, but mid-knock the door opened fast and rough. 

A man appeared in front of me, chewing gum with a bored look on his face. He had roughed up short brown hair, bright green eyes, heart shaped lips.. he was stunning. But that was not going to distract me from the fact he is annoying.

He looked me up and down and spoke,"What do you want?" A thick British accent was clear and it was surprising. In Seattle you don't hear many brits.

"Stop playing your music so loud. It is eight pm and I am sick of hearing your dumb rock music," I stated. His expression never changed. 

"Um, no, I'm not going to stop playing. What's wrong with rock anyway? It's the best genre," He scoffed, crossing his arms. 

"No it is not," I argued. He raised an eyebrow.

"Um, yes, it is. What do you think is the best genre? You look like you think classical music is the best all dressed up in that silk white sleeping dress," He smirked. I looked down and realized I didn't put on a robe. My boobs were almost out. I quickly covered my chest and huffed.

"Classical music is the best, in my opinion. Anyway, can you please quiet down on the music? At least after 8," I snarled. He rolled his eyes and backed up to shut the door. 

"M'kay," he said, eyebrows raised and lips pressed together firmly. The next thing I know a door is shut in my face. I jumped a little from the impact and didn't move for a few seconds. I processed everything and headed back to my apartment to get some sleep.

I walked up the stairs to get to the floor my room was on, coffee and a bunch of work piled in my arms. I reached my floor and huffed, arms aching from the heavy load I'm carrying. I looked down the hall and noticed the loud annoying music man was unlocking his room with what seemed like mail in his hands.

When I reached my door, I set everything down and grabbed my key from my pocket. I noticed the music man looked at me and stopped what he was doing. I put the key in the knob then looked at him. 

"What?" I asked. He pushed his lips out and shook his head.

"Nothing," He shrugged. I rolled my eyes and unlocked the door. 

"Okay, cool. Stop looking at me please," I smiled at him, picking up all my work and coffee. 

"M'kay," He says blankly.

I made it inside and kicked the door closed. So many essays had to be graded tonight and I was absolutely dreading it. College kids that are literature majors are the worst to grade for. I love reading all of the essays, trust me. The thing is I have to go back and reread so I can grade. It's a nightmare. 

I entered my office and released the essays from my arms. I left them there, deciding to touch them later after a snack. I grabbed some leftover hummus and pita chips and headed to my couch to read. 

But of course the second I get to reading he starts playing. But this time it wasn't rock. It was a soft song. Calming, almost. It actually sounded good. 

I sat and listened to the sweet melody he was playing. It sounded sweet and soulful, almost like his inspiration was made from being hurt, that kind of song.

I decided to finish my chapter and then got up to set my book on the shelf. My feet made their way to the door and opened it, deciding to face the man next door. Soon enough my hand knocked on his door. I had to knock twice, just like last time, then he opened the door.  

His face dropped the second he saw me.

"Why are you here? I wasn't even-" He started, annoyance clear in voice. I put my hand up and cut him off. His brows furrowed and a frown appeared on his face.

"I'm not here to yell, I just wanted to know what you were playing. It actually sounded good," I told him. The man's expression did not change at all. 

"It's really none of your buisness." He says, eyes locked onto mine. I put my hand down and rolled my eyes. 

"Are you always this stubborn?" I scoffed. "I'm not being intrusive this time, I'm giving you a compliment."

"I'm well aware," He says. I noticed the corners of his mouth started to pull up but it looked like he was fighting it. 

"You know what, fine. Be that way," I rolled my eyes and my arms slapped against my sides. I turned around to head back to my humble home but was stopped by his voice. 

"Wait," He said. I turned back around and he sighed. "Okay, I'm sorry. You are just pissed me off last time you came. Thank you though, for the compliment."

He sent me a small smile and i threw one back. I realized he didn't mean any harm towards me. I was in the wrong for snapping at him for being loud. Although, he could have been a little  quieter. 

"You're probably busy with all those papers you had so I'll let you go," He says, lips moving to one side. I shake my head. 

"No, I'm not busy. If i were I wouldn't have come knocking on your door," I giggled. He let out a breath and looked at the floor, shaking is head with a smile. "I just realized I never got your name."

"Oh, erm, it's Harry. Harry Styles." He says, leaning on the door frame. 

"Wow, that's quite a name. Sounds like a name a celebrity would have," I smiled. "I'm Rosaline."

Harry's eyes widened, "Woah.. that's a beautiful name."

A blush had slowly crept up onto my cheeks. He noticed it too. "Thank you."

"Since you're not busy, Rosaline, would you like to come in?" He asked, his arm swaying behind him, motioning for me to come in. 

"Yeah, why not." I smiled. He nodded and stepped to the side so I could enter.