The Apartment

Whoever had abandoned the little apartment had left a mess. I looked around dismally as I surveyed the damage. When I had bought the little one room place, sight unseen, as is, it was for the view of the park out the back door in the kitchen. Winterlake park was stunning, and now that leaves were getting ready to change, I couldn't wait to get my desk set up in the little kitchen at the window.

I did not know the damage would be this extensive though, it would take a week just to make it liveable. Still, even in the shape it was in, it had been a steal. The economy like it is, a lot of nicer places were going for just as cheap. I set the box of cleaning supplies on the counter that had been for some reason drug away from the wall and the sink and looked at the floor. My biggest fear had been roaches or bugs, but there were none. Something that looked brownish yellow had been spilled though, and it looked very sticky. Blech. This was not a chore I was looking forward to. I stepped to the back door and lifted the shade on the window to look at the park, to remind myself of why I wanted this place when I had a perfectly good farm upstate.

You would think there would be less distraction on a farm than in the city, but you are wrong. On a farm, in a small town where you grew up, everyone knows you. Everyone stops in to say hello whenever they want. Cousins, siblings, parents, they all invite themselves to dinner when you had planned on skipping to get that next chapter written before bed. In a city, no one wants to know you. No one cares who you are and they all mind their own business. Peace at least.

The vast park was empty as far as I could see, but it was early in the morning. Just after five am is not a time for people to be roaming the park. As I stood there I could see one of my adjoined neighbors open their back door and a white bulldog with brown spots shot out into the grass behind the apartments. My first thoughts were very uncharitable and grumpy. Did it bark a lot? I would have to watch every step if I went out back. Scowling at the dog who was happily doing his business next to a giant oak tree, I yanked the shade down.

Cleaning did not take a week, it actually took less than three days. By the third day, I had learned several things. One, the dog didn't bark, ever that I heard. His owner, a single man, maybe ten years older than me and attractive in a brooding sort of way, was also quiet and also worked from home. The apartment on the other side of me was empty, but I was told by the very gossipy older man who lived four doors down that it was let to a young actress who was almost always gone. The gossipy old man had moved back here after his wife had died, this was where they had met over forty years ago. I smiled politely and listened while I moved my few things into the little apartment. Most of the furniture I had bought online and was being delivered as I moved my boxes in and unpacked. The old man was of the opinion that an open door for the delivery men was an open door for him too as he watched me unpack the few dishes I had brought in the kitchen. After they brought in my desk and I had it put at the kitchen window, I set up my laptop and printer and he informed me with a straight face that computers were known to cause cancer and tumors and many other problems. Once the delivery men had my bed and dresser set up in the small bedroom, I pardoned myself out of the old mans company and locked the front door behind him. Over the next few days, I learned that he spent almost his entire day in a chair on his sidewalk, waiting to waylay any of the tenants. The easiest way to avoid him was to go out back if I needed to.

I began leaving my back door open when I realized that the park was almost always empty and I could sit and listen to the quite rustle of the trees while I wrote. The bulldog seemed to take the open door as an invitation and he waddled in one evening wagging his whole hind quarters and jumping up on my leg. I scratched his ears as I read over the last paragraph I had written, then sat frowning over how to make it sound more smooth. The flow was bothering me.

"Dozer! Dozer! Here Dozer!"

Dozer didn't move, he looked at my open door and woofed a deep gravely woof. The quiet neighbor popped his head in and had the grace to look embarrassed.

"Sorry, he's never just gone into anyone's house before. I leave my backdoor open and he comes and goes as he pleases, he must have thought your open door meant it was all right too. Come on Dozer, come here!"

"I don't mind," I answered a bit untruthfully. The man was handsome and I almost sighed. Another distraction was the last thing I needed. Dozer was not moving and the man looked lost as he stood just outside the door. "I am Han, umm, I mean Jessica. My name is Jessica, you can come in."

"Thank you, I am Ben." He stepped in just long enough to pick up his dog, then stepped back to the doorway. "It was nice to meet you," he called as he left.

Ben. It fit him. Tall, big and quiet. Handsome in a simple sort of way. He wouldn't make the cover of a magazine, but he was the boy next door a girl might find herself falling for while he worked on his mustang. I smiled at the thought, since he was now the boy next door to me.

Ben proved to be more distracting than I hoped. He seemed to be the parks only frequent visitor, walking Dozer, playing with Dozer, or just sitting on his back patio and reading while Dozer played. Dozer visited as often as I began leaving the door open almost all day for the breeze and the background noise. I was able to integrate him into my work, taking the time I took to scratch his ears to read over my work and edit a bit as I went. I even began leaving him a bowl of water on the floor. If he stayed too long, Ben would come to the door and get him, never staying long enough to say more than hello, which was fine with me, though I did begin wondering what his story was. The gossipy old man didn't know when I tried to casually bring him up in conversation while standing in front of my apartment with two arms full of groceries. According to the old man, he had lived there at least three years, he had been there when the old man moved in. He was quiet and never talked and rarely ever left his apartment. He didn't have a girlfriend and no visitors at all. It was unnatural according to the old man. I smiled and slipped into my apartment with a quick goodbye as he audibly informed me that frozen dinners caused cancer.

Fall came and I began sitting at my desk with a robe and an extra blanket so I could keep the door open. Halloween night, I sighed and slipped out my backdoor. I couldn't focus with the constant knocking and the day had slipped up on me. I had no treats, so I pretended to not be home. That did not stop the knocks. I sat in the little chair I had gotten for outside and sipped on coffee while I stared through the trees into the park.

A voice from several feet away made me jump and almost spill all over myself. "So, why 'Han'?"

"Uhh, what?" I asked turning to Ben. He was sitting on his patio in the dark, Dozer was curled up next to him.

"The day you introduced yourself. You said Han first."

"Oh. Yeah. It's an old nickname."

"Star Wars?" he asked standing up.

"Yeah," I answered slightly embarrassed. Everyone back home had called me Han since I was four.

Ben didn't say anything else, he just slipped into his dark apartment and shut the back door after Dozer followed him in. I looked at his windows a moment, but they were devoid of any sort of light at all. Was he standing there watching? I shivered and turned back to the park, but I couldn't get the crawling feeling off my spine, so I abandoned the patio and fled to my room to read.

It was almost thanksgiving and it had crept up on me as well. I had run to the store late because my growling stomach was distracting me too much and my cupboards were bare. As I left, the clerk wished me a happy thanksgiving and I shockingly asked if it was thanksgiving. Tomorrow, she had answered, looking at me like maybe I was on drugs or had a mental disorder. What kind of person didn't know when it was thanksgiving?

If she hadn't told me, the old man, who had finally informed me his name was Herbert (call me Herb) would have when I got home. He intercepted me as I slipped my key in the front door and opened it.

"Big plans tomorrow?"

"No, Herb, just writing as usual."

"Aint natural. Don't you have no family? Thanksgiving is supposed to be about family, or at least friends. You at least get a turkey?"

"No Herb, I didn't know Thanksgiving was tomorrow, I just got....." I paused as I heard running water from my kitchen.

I slipped into my door quietly and shut the door in Herbs expectant face as I snuck to the kitchen. As I got to the doorway, the water stopped and a large figure turned and froze as they saw me. I froze for only a second, then flipped the light on, prepared to hurl my groceries.

Ben stood there, stunned, his hands dripping water, and a bit of blood from a gash along his thumb. "What are you doing here?" I demanded as I sat the groceries down and grabbed some paper towels for his hand.

"I'm sorry, I came in the wrong door, I was distracted," he stammered as I dabbed the gash. "I just washed my hands, I didn't touch anything."

"Oh, don't worry about it. I guess I forgot to shut the back door when I left. What happened? You did scare me, I thought I was being robbed."

"Not sure, Dozer and I were playing fetch, and we wrestled with it and I guess there was a sharp branch on it, when he jerked it away it sliced my hand open. You thought you were being robbed and you just came in here?" He asked incredulously taking the paper towels from me to press against the cut.

"I didn't really think about it," I said slightly embarrassed. I turned to my bag of groceries and began putting them away. I sensed him move behind me, but I was shocked when he took hold of my wrists from behind and grinded slightly into my hips against the counter as he held them firmly.

"Hoping for a 'break in fantasy'?" he asked softly, his mouth in my ear.

My mouth was open and I was utterly frozen in shock. I should have been angry, furious even, but the shock quickly changed to excitement as he moved my wrists to one hand and took hold of my hair. He pulled my head back and leaned in to kiss me, but stopped so close that our lips were almost touching. "Is that what you want?"

I didn't know this man, and I knew this was dangerous, but what I wanted to say was 'yes'. I shivered and tried to focus. "Ben, I think AHH!"

His grip tightened on my wrists and my hair as he jerked my head back further, painfully. Fear washed over me. "The truth now. Tell me you wanted me to slip in here and have my way with you."

"If I scream Herb will hear me, he will call the police."

"Then don't scream," he said nuzzling my neck. I was trembling I realized, and despite my fear, his words and actions excited me even more. He let go of my hair and slid his hand around my waist to the hem of my shirt, then he slid his hand under my shirt, sliding his large fingers over my stomach. "Say you want it."

I wanted it. My body was quivering with excitement and my breath was ragged with need. But this was wrong. I didn't know him, I hated admitting it, but I was ashamed that his actions excited me and I didn't want him, a stranger to know these things about me.

"Say it," he demanded again and I shook my head.

"No. No! Please leave Ben!"

To my shock , he let me go with a shove and an angry sound, then left, yanking the door shut behind him. I stood there trembling and staring at the door.

Had that really just happened?

I left my door shut for over a week after that night, but Ben acted as if nothing had ever happened. He did not look at me, or acknowledge me in any way. Soon, I forgot it too, or at least, I became so distracted that it was put out of my mind. At least, until night came and I lay alone in bed with my thoughts. Those thoughts are what drove me to begin opening my door again, no matter how cold it got. Ben spent as much time out back in the cold as he did when it was warm, so the distraction was constant, though I didn't mind it at all anymore. After another week with him ignoring me utterly, I began staying up later and sitting in the dark with the door open. After another week, I began leaving the door open at night, even after I went to bed. I imagined night after night, him slipping in to my bedroom and waking me. It did not happen and I began getting frustrated. Did he want a written invitation? It dawned on me suddenly, that's exactly what he wanted. He wanted me to say it, that's what he had asked of me. I stared at him out the window, sitting down by a fallen log and petting Dozers head as he stared at something in the park. I swallowed my humility and pride and slipped out the back door. I tried to be quiet, but Dozer turned to look at me as I approached. Ben did not. He kept staring at nothing even though I knew he knew that I was there. I stood there, wondering what to say for a moment, shivering with the cold. Wishing for a coat, and at least an acknowledgement that I was there, I grimaced and almost turned back. Just as I started to, I steeled myself and said his name. He didn't turn, or even move. Dozer wagged.

"You were right," I said swallowing hard, then turned and left when he still didn't look at me. Bastard.

I shut and locked my door that night, I was feeling petulant, but the next night I left it unlocked, and the night after. After a full week of leaving it unlocked, I began forgetting him and I went back into my regular schedule of writing. Winter hit early, there was a foot and a half of snow on the ground when Christmas came and I looked out my window Christmas morning at Ben playing with Dozer in the snow. He was dressed in unrelieved black and while it should have been morbid on such a cheery day, it pulled at something inside of me. He looked sexy as hell with a few short curls peeking out from under his stocking cap and his slim figure so tall and sexy against the unrelieved white of the snow. I scowled as he turned to come back to his apartment and yanked my curtains shut. Maybe it was the motion that drew him, but he opened my back door without knocking and Dozer flew in, tracking snow all over my floor. Cold washed into the room and I stood up in surprise as Ben stepped in and shut the door. There was no mistake this time, he knew exactly where he was as he looked me up and down from the doorway several times. I ignored Dozer as I stood there staring at him.

"Are you going to scream?" he asked as he stepped towards me. I stepped back and he circled me from less than a foot away.

"No."

"Take your clothes off," he demanded stopping behind me.

"It's warmer in the bedroom, we.."

"Now!"

I jumped and flinched, but immediately began pulling my robe off. I hesitated on my sweatpants, wishing I had worn sexier underwear, but I was fairly sure he didn't care. He had picked now because I wasn't prepared for him. He wanted it that way. I pulled my sweatshirt off and self consciously covered my small breasts as I stood shivering.

"Underwear too."

I slipped them off, turning crimson, but also getting excited.

"Tell me."

"I.. I want this."

"Want what?"

"I want you to take me."

"Do you want it to hurt? Do you want to be punished? Forced?" he was closer now, talking into my ear. I began trembling, and not from the cold. I wasn't completely sure he and I were on the same page here.

"No, I don't want pain Ben, just you."

The fingertips on my lower back made me jump, even though he was very gentle. He stepped back, holding me at arms length, I assumed to look at me. He stepped closer again and slid his fingers around my waist. One hand slid upward, stopping just short of cupping my breasts and the other slid down my thigh and in, so he could pull my legs apart. His breath was ragged on my neck as he leaned into me and I realized he was trembling too. "I am going to hurt you," he said against my hair and part of me panicked. "I am going to hurt you and you are going to like it. You will beg me to do it again and again. Tell me you want it."

I wasn't sure. I wasn't into pain, but maybe he just meant a little bit rough? Maybe I was supposed to play along? I was afraid, but I didn't want him to stop.

"I want it," I whispered fearfully. "I want you."

His arms slid around me and he lifted me off the ground, then carried me back to my bedroom. He set me down near the bed, then gently pushed me towards the bed. "Lay down, face down into your pillow and spread your legs as far as you can."