The night I fell in love

Did

Yoongi prov.

The city's at its loudest tonight.
People coming back from party's, clubs, dinners with family and friends.

The lights, light up the city with beautiful colors.

People rush to there cars from the outburst of rain.

Rain and a gush of wind comes blowing into my kitchen window. The old copper colored locks couldn't hold the powerful storm going on outside.

I woke up from the thunder, my heart pounding to the rhythm.
Sweat dripped from my temple, the storm flushed my dreams.

My breath finally calms down. I remove the silky sheets from my body. My feet touch the concrete cold hard floor.

I went into the kitchen to the soft fluffy rug as sone as possible. My feet warming up. I grab a glass from the gray glass cabinet, put it under the ice dispenser. Ice hitting the glass. Almost falling onto the floor.

I sit down on my leather black couch, the coldness touching the back of my thighs. My body jolts at the feeling.

Just as I a was taking a sip of the cold ice water, I hear a glass shatters up above; in the apartment above mine.

I thought I was dreaming until I heard the voice of girl; it sounds like she was crying. Now I'm to worried to go back to sleep.

I only ever herd a few yells and the door slam but... I've never heard this before. What if he did something to her. Everyone in the apartment could hear ever time they fight. People making noise complaints but nothing ever happened.

Our landlord was to drunk and dumb to even fix the elevator that we have to use the stares we have. He literally didn't bother to get it fixed. I've used it as leverage. He lowers my rent; I don't tell the inspectors what goes on. I know it's not fare but, I don't care.

I put on my black Walmart slippers, go to the steps and walk up to her apartment. The heating not working;the halls are freezing cold; like the outside is in.

I walk up the last set up the dirty stone cold steps and walk into the hall. The wooden floor creeks as I walk.

120.... 122..... 124...

Finally I reached her door. 126. Right above mine 96. The way he numbered these apartments was so confusing. Why the fuck did he start with 90?

I hesitate at first, then slightly knock on the white metal like door. I could feel the vibration coming from the knock. I hear the other side fall silent.

13 minutes later the door opens to a girl with a dark navy blue Tommy Hilfiger sip-up jacket all the way to her chin.

"Hello"