3 - Apartment

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"Are we going to our usual hang out tree?"

I had followed Dean out the door, trailing behind him like a lost puppy as he slowed down his steps for me to keep up. We had just finished our tutorial which was coincidently, the last class of the day for the both of us and so I decided to ask Dean for help because I was confused on the material we were just taught.

Originally, I thought we were going to sit by our usual tree but I guess Dean has other plans.

"Dean..." I called out, huffing out a breath of annoyance for his long strides.

For someone who didn't talk much, he sure loved clothes. His outfits were perfectly cordial and went with any day or season. Like before, his hands were once again decked out with silver rings and he supported black high top converse. I guess it was his way of expressing himself.

"You said you moved here alone, right?" Dean spoke up, we were now walking side by side to God knows where.

"Yeah, why?" I turned to look up at him startled once he was already staring down at me, articulated and controlled like he was piecing something together already. There wasn't much to figure out, to be quite honest. He was overanalyzing everything.

"And you said you needed a fresh start, is that correct?" The deep sound of his voice made me zero in on his neck, black peeking out from under his shirt.

"Is that a tattoo?"

He sighed. "Answer the question, troublemaker."

"Troublemaker?" I raised my eyebrows and he shot me a look making me groan, admitting defeat. He was no fun, seriously. "Okay, fine. Will you promise to answer mine?"

He hesitated for a few seconds before complying, nodding his head. Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, we walked along the sidewalk leading out of the busy city and into a quiet neighborhood. People rushed around us like a frenzy, but at this moment it was only us.

"Yeah, I came here for a fresh start. I thought it was the perfect idea, you know? Last year of university, getting my own place, collecting a degree that wasn't confined due to the limited jobs in the area."

"What's wrong with where you lived before?"

The real question was, what wasn't wrong?

"It was a small town. Not many mainstream things were there so not many choices of careers to choose from. I was stuck between a grocery store manager and a diner. Also, it was...nevermind." I trailed off.

From the corner of my eye I could feel Dean's curiosity grow. I remained my focus on the people around us, the amount growing less and less the more we walked away from the general city area.

"It was...?" He pushed.

"Suffocating." I admitted. "Everyone knew everyone, and if you did something minor it was considered juvenile and the whole town would be informed in a few hours. It felt like I was constantly walking around eggshells. And, people believed that because they knew or grew up with each other, that they couldn't have possibly done horrible things."

"What kind of horrible things?"

I forced a laugh, "Oh you know, the usual arguments, petty theft, vandalism. It's whatever, I'm just glad I'm out."

"Why didn't your parents move with you here?" The way he said it was more of a statement than a question, like he already knew the answer but just wanted me to confirm. "Or parent, I mean."

"Enough about me," I waved off. "You're asking questions like we're gonna fuck later. Did you always live here?"

"I guess you could say that." Dean dismissed my previous response. "I moved here when I was ten, lived with my parents all of high school and the first two years of college before I moved out."

"You live on campus too?" I wondered. Maybe that's why he offered to walk me home.

"No," He shook his head slightly. "I actually live here." He used his head to nod in the direction we were going, approaching the building with what seemed to be twenty stories high.

"Woah," I said under my breath. It wasn't an over the top rich apartment building but a decent, nice one.

"You wanna come in?" Dean inquired, "Don't worry, I'm not inviting you because I wanna fuck. It is getting late though, so feel free to say no. I'll understand." My heart soared with that response.

He had given me a way out.

He had given me a way out.

I suppressed my grin before nodding, walking beside him into the building.

"Why did you move out?" I asked, keeping up with him. He pressed the button to call the elevator, turning to me to respond.

"Just...reasons. My parents aren't really the accepting kind." He shrugged.

"Ah, don't tell me. You're a rich boy with rich boy problems."

That seemed to inflict a grin upon him, it lasted for a few seconds as he shook his head. "I'm just a normal guy with parents whose expectations precede mine. It's not very fun living in a place where you're constantly criticized—" oh he had no idea "—and I realized in order for me to be independent, I needed to leave."

I nodded along to his response, accepting it as my eyes wandered about. The interior was large, rightfully so, with a reception desk a few meters away from us. I knew living in the city wasn't cheap so Dean has to have been working in order to afford something like this.

When the elevator came, we walked inside and for a brief moment, I hesitated to get in. Though the strange look Dean shot me forced me to suck it up and walk, not wanting to give him yet another action to analyze.

I stood on the opposite side of Dean, watching his knuckle press the button to the seventh floor and patiently waited for the doors to close. It was just us, and the small room seemed to get inexplicably smaller as I tried to control my breathing.

My left hand was fisted, my right hand tapping the familiar rhythm on my thigh as I counted to ten in my head.

The last time I had been in an elevator was the day before I had moved here, the memories that were suppressed of that horrid night were now coming back in full waves as I cursed myself for not keeping it together.

"Sophia..." I knew it was Dean, but the deep voice shot me straight back to that night. The same night where he yelled my name in anger and hatred.

"Sophia." Dean tried again, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. I pushed him away, flinching before I realized what I had done.

"Sorry," I laughed, forcefully. "Elevators make me nervous. I just think about how suddenly the wires can snap and all that. Don't mind me." I waved him off, feeling the pressure of his frown from a mile away, knowing my white lie hadn't convinced him in the way I hoped.

"You're okay," He whispered, making me nod slightly. "We're almost there."

Taking a few deep breaths in, I was grateful that the elevator came to a stop.

I let Dean walk out first so I could fix myself up from behind him, wiping away the few tears that shed, grateful that my hair had covered my face enough so he didn't see much of my reaction in the elevator.

We had finally reached his apartment, Dean was strangely quiet the whole walk there.

Opening the door, he gestured for me to enter as he shut the door behind him, not turning the lock yet as he stared at me expectingly.

"What?" I questioned. "Wanna kick me out already?" I joked.

"No, I was just checking to see if you were okay with me locking it."

My heart fluttered. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

He eyed me with concern. "Just checking..." He trailed off, flicking the lock and heading towards the open kitchen.

I slipped off my shoes, toeing them beside his and followed his orders.

"You can sit on the couch, Soph. I'll bring you some water in a second." He called out.

His new nickname for me brought a warm feeling to my stomach, and I failed to hide my grin.

Tentatively, I walked towards his black couches and sat on the edge, uncomfortable after I dropped my bag beside the couch. I didn't really know how to act. Was I to help him with the water? Did I sit until I was told not to?

Looking around his apartment, I noted how clean and simplistic it was. A few pieces of coordinating art hanging from his walls. His furniture matched and a carpet was laid down beneath a coffee table.

He had a flatscreen T.V. that was hung accordingly, and a bookshelf filled with dozens of books caught my eye.

Immediately, I stood up, walking towards it. Scattered along the shelf were also small knickknacks, giving it a more personal touch.

My eyes scanned the spines of the books, careful not to touch any of them knowing I couldn't afford to replace it if anything broke.

A few familiar titles caught my eyes, astonishment lifting my expression.

"You can borrow anything you like," A voice startled me out of my trance. I stood up from my crouching position, wiping away imaginary dust.

"Didn't take you for a book worm." I beamed at him, making him give me an amused look.

"Book worm?" He repeated, laughing under his breath. "Who even says that anymore?"

"I do," I defended, crossing my arms. Dean extended his hand towards me, making me take the water filled glass with a thanks. I sipped it, observing him over the glass.

"I didn't take you for someone who read romance," I pointed out, glancing back to the last row on the book shelf. He didn't have many, most books were murder mystery or thrillers. Some were even non-fiction books about a criminal's state of mind which made sense due to the classes he took.

"I don't," He shrugged. "But those are the ones I did enjoy."

"You enjoyed Alone With You in The Ether and Beach Read?"

He frowned at me, leaning against the wall beside the book shelf. "Why, did you not like them?"

"No," I shook my head, "I love Beach Read. I think I've read so many romance books, it's hard to keep count. I just never met a guy who liked it well enough to buy it and display it on their bookshelf."

A smile quirked his lips. "Well, I guess I'm your first."

The way he said it sounded like he was inciting more than he let on.

"You like reading?" He asked.

"I love reading. It's a good way to pass the time, you know. Helps expand your vocabulary and all that. I remember reading a dozen books a week when I was younger."

"How about now?"

"I have no time," I explained. "But I'm trying to get back into it."

"Well like I said, feel free to borrow any, anytime you like."

I nodded my appreciation, turning back to scan the spines of other books and slipping out Alone With You in The Ether, aimlessly looking noticing writing along the margins.

"Do you honestly have no friends?" I wondered. I hadn't seen any picture frames or anything to insinuate that he had friends. I guess a couch counted.

He shot me an amused look, gesturing for me to follow him to the kitchen. I sat down on the bar stool and watched him take out ingredients, not bothering to ask what he was making because I know he wouldn't answer.

"I never said such a thing, you insinuated that. And I do, Sophia. They're on vacation."

The more he said my name, the more I liked it. My eyebrows rose with questions, pressing him. "But college just started..."

He looked up from chopping an onion, "They're a year older than me so they already graduated. I'm pretty sure they'll be back next week though, since you're so obsessed with them I'll take you to meet them."

"I'm not obsessed with them," I argued. "I was just concerned for you."

He gave me a look telling me that he was entertained. "You were concerned for me?" He pushed.

"More like concerned for your dick." I grumbled.

Dean choked on a laugh, setting the knife down. "This is the second dick joke you've made. You love talking about my dick, don't you?"

"I thought you were supposed to be helping me with my law homework." I changed the subject, scowling at him.

"After we eat," He promised, nodding towards the pot.

"Hey, you didn't answer the question about your tattoos!" I called out, watching him walk out of the pantry with a few items.

"Thanks for the help," He breathed out.

"I'm a guest, Dean," I beamed up at him. "Of course I won't help you. Besides, you have enough smartness for the both of us so put it to good use!"

He remained silent, shooting me a glare as he continued his task. There was no heat behind it though, making me smile. Progress, it seems. I was making it with him.

A few minutes passed by before he finally talked.

"Sophia, you are so stupid." He muttered.

My jaw fell, confused. "You didn't have to rub it in, law is hard!" I whined.

"No," He shook his head. "I meant why did you agree to come to my apartment when you've only known me for seven days."

"Eight," I corrected.

"Whatever. You're majoring in criminology, wanting to become what? A lawyer? And then you go and do something as reckless as this? What if I'm a serial killer?" He lectured.

"Are you?" I pressed.

"No," He passed me another glare. "But what if I was?"

"But you aren't," I countered.

"You're infuriating," He sighed deeply, his eyes pinching like he was in pain. "I should've left you on the side od the road."

"You've said that already," I reminded him. "And that's really rude, actually. I'm not a stray cat."

"Well I'm saying it again. You're fucking stupid, Sophia. Don't do that again."

"I have pepper spray, it's fine." I waved off his concern, leaning my chin in my palm as I watched him work his way around the kitchen.

"Those are illegal in Canada."

"Well I guess I'm stupid and a law breaker. Hey, do you think that would make a good movie? Fellow reckless girl Sophia Adam and her sidekick, the law breaker!"

"Shut up."

"Are you kicking me out of your apartment?" I pouted, feigning a heavy sigh. "And after all we've been through, Dean. I thought you were the one!"

"If you keep being stupid, I will."

"Maybe you are a serial killer..."

He didn't respond, only rolling his eyes after dumping the arrangement of vegetables he had finished cutting into the pot.

"I have a few tattoos."

"Can you show me?" I've always wanted a tattoo, but they were too expensive to waste money on. It was always a debate between did I want food for a week? Or this permanent doodle inked on my skin? The answer was always food.

"They better not turn out to be some ugly rose," I raised off the stool, walking to the sink so I could wash my hands and help with dinner.

"What if it was?"

"You are full of a lot of 'what if's' aren't you?"

"It's my specialty."

"How cute," I deadpanned, walking to stand beside him.
"Okay, Miss Adam here ready to provide my skills. How can I help?"

"Miss Adam, huh?"

"Shut up, I bet your last name is Smith or John."

"Smith or John?" He laughed.

"I don't know, okay! Those were the first white names that popped in my head." I let out a long breath of air, grabbing the pizza dough from him as I started to roll it out.

"It's Davis but good effort,"

"Good effort," I mocked under my breath, rolling out the dough while pretty boy here checked on the sauce. "Dean Davis, it's like a fairytale name."

"Oh, and like Sophia isn't?" He scoffed.

"You're right, I am a princess so be a good little servant and get me some water."

He shot me a glare and I returned it with a cheeky grin.

The oven beeped to let us know it was preheated and ready to use, and with a few more strokes of the rolling pin, I lifted the dough into the pan before handing it to Dean.

Before he could spoon the sauce, I stopped him.

Grabbing a spoon, I tasted it before grimacing. Turning my head, I looked at Dean unimpressed.

"Did you season it?" I asked.

"Yes," He frowned. "With salt and pepper." I tried not to let my laughter fall through my lips as I walked toward his spice cabinet, plucking out an assortment.

"Why, was it bad? I don't cook very often." The genuine worry in his voice made me sober up.

"It's okay Dean, it wasn't bad. I'm just going to add in a few things if that's okay with you," I looked at him for permission before eyeballing the spices into the sauce, stirring occasionally. After finishing, I dumped ladles onto the dough and moved it around, covering the surface area.

Dean pulled away once it was completely covered, putting it in the oven to cook and set a timer on the pizza.

"Now what do we do?" I asked.

"Your homework." He said. "After all, that was the whole reason you came here."

"No, I'm too tired for homework, Dean. Can't we watch a movie or something?"

Dean shook his head, "I don't know how much help you need—"

"Can't I just copy off of you like a good friend?"

"But you wont learn anything that way..?." He said, looking puzzled. .

Oh this poor, helpless boy.

"Okay, how about this? After we eat, you help with my homework. But until then, lets talk or watch a movie or something."

"Are you actually going to do it?"

"Come on, Dean. Compromise." I begged.

Dean contemplated this in his head before agreeing, walking over to his book shelf. I followed, sitting on the couch him and angle my body so it was facing him rather than straight ahead.

I leaned my arm against the couch, holding my head in my hand as I saw him grab the remote from the coffee table, turning the television on.

"What do you wanna watch?"

"I don't know. I haven't ever watched TV before."

"What?" Dean dropped his arm. Giving me a incredulous look, he waited for my explanation.

"I could never afford it so I never had one."

"But didn't you say you read a dozen a books a week? Aren't that many books more expensive?"

I laughed, tucking my hair behind my ear. "Ever heard of the library, pretty boy?"

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh." I quieted off my glee once the oven beeped, and Dean pressed a hand to my shoulder lightly pushing me down before telling me he'd return in a few minutes after he put the cheese on.

I busied myself by taking out my phone. There wasn't much on there. I had deleted all my social medias and contacts once I was halfway here, the only numbers left were new ones that I programmed in such as the university office and a few jobs that I hoped would call me back with a vacancy.

A notification popped up on the top of my screen, my hands stilling mid way of typing as I read the message once, twice. Three times.

Unknown: You can run, but I promise that you won't get very far, Sophia. I see you.

Attached was a picture of Dean and me walking to his apartment and my stomach dropped.

I didn't even need to text the usual "who is this?" because I already knew exactly who it was.

I think I'm going to puke.

•••


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