Fragments of Love: A ZaintSee Collection

next to you

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Ei–

Saint groaned and shook his head, slamming down his cup of coffee on his kitchen island, that had a very generous view of his infamous next-door neighbour doing push ups.

Saint lived in a high-rise condominium that he bought on a whim because of it's gorgeous and artful architectural structure. It wasn't just a straight cut building, but rather a geometric shape that led to his next-door neighbour's veranda right in front of his. Which conveniently was placed overlooking his kitchen where he loved to stay – to eat, do work and basically everything else.

His neighbour just so happens to love working out at home. Shirtless. Right in front of Saint, always just right in time for Saint to be relaxing or doing work on his kitchen island. He could swear that the other practically just works out day in and day out, every hour of each day; how else could he have that glorious body otherwise?

It wasn't an unknown fact that Saint was attracted to men, though really, if one would ask him if he was homosexual or bi, he can't say much because what matters most is the personality and the heart of the person. So safe to say, he was more attracted on that, but he can't deny when someone is gorgeous and hot as sin being flaunted right in front of him. He's just like any normal human being with a strong sex drive, and he was young.

Saint didn't know him. Didn't know his name either. Though he can tell that they were roughly the same height. That the other practically breathed and lived the word workout. That the other had muscles that Saint was tempted to just squeeze and sink his teeth into. The man was oblivious to Saint's thoughts, and stares. Saint, shamefully, admits to himself that on days when the sun was high and the man was coated in sweat that dripped down oh, so, slowly, over his abdomen which was packed with muscles, he had to excuse himself and roughly take the edge off. Even more shamefully, his nights were filled with feverish lustful dreams and he'd wake up frustrated and hard in his shorts.

Saint turned around, taking lungful of breaths to calm his libido and to gather his thoughts because all that ran through his mind was to make that man his, his, his. Taking one last inhale, he swivelled back around only to choke on air as his eyes met his neighbor's knowing stare. To his utter horror and embarrassment, the man winked before leaving his balcony and leaving Saint practically gasping for air.

Maybe the other wasn't as oblivious as he thought.

––

For the next two days, Saint avoided the kitchen – staying there, rather.

If he had to be there, he'd draw his curtains down, obscuring his magnificent view; oh and the breathtaking city too, he guessed. He was stewing in his humiliation that he even avoided going out at his usual times. Because, even if they hadn't met formally, he had seen his neighbour up close when he goes out to work though they never acknowledged each other since the other was always on the phone. Saint wonders what job the other had to be that busy. He owns a business and he's his own CEO and he isn't always preoccupied on the phone even though he ought to be (bless his secretary).

Saint paced back and forth, having just finished a business meeting online and his fingers itched to just draw the curtains back and, for lack of the better word, ogle. Which really, for a twenty three year old man, should be creepy enough as any other man who would do the same to its unsuspecting victim. But can you blame Saint? If you had a view like that everyday, you can't help but just stare (drooling is another matter to which Saint would not discuss with anyone).

When Saint finally had enough of his inner dilemma, he growled before he stalked over to his curtains and practically ripped it apart. Only to be met with an empty and disappointing view. Cursing to himself at being dramatic, he tugged at his collar before cursing again as his phone chimed, indicating it was time to leave for another business meeting. Looking over longingly, he begrudgingly swiped his car keys from the island before leaving his home.