Page 7 of Sweet
Before I could experience any kind of relief, a rowdy group of men, obviously drunk and inebriated, stumbled into each other. They tripped over their own feet and tumbled onto the base of the stairs leading to Dream’s apartment. My eyes immediately shot to them, twitching with angst as the stupid fuckers climbed a few steps, nearing closer to her front door. My hand instinctively reached around to the holster I kept concealed under my dark leather jacket. I clipped the handgun free, my fingertips gliding along the safety, ready to strike as that old instinct to kill slowly crept into my existence.
Easy, Felix. Don’t rush the shot.
My eyes remained locked onto the men who now stood only a few inches from her door, laughing and being nosey as hell, attempting to help each other gain their balance. They struggled to gather their footing, but eventually found it and drunkenly made their way back down the stairs and onto the sidewalk. A small sigh of relief brushed past my lips as I watched them slowly walk away from her place. It wasn’t until they were out of view that I finally eased up, releasing the tension from my muscles and unclutching the gun. But as I looked at Dream’s apartment door, this unnerving idea of it being unlockedgnawed at my brain. And the longer I stood there, glaring at the old brass lock, the more I felt this odd sense of panic.
No…Leave it alone, Felix. You said it yourself. She’s fine.
I didn’t move, my body frozen with that returning tension, and more anxiety.
She’s fine…just walk away. Walk away.
Despite the obvious logic my brain was feeding me, my body rebelled and I couldn’t move. I was stuck, staring at that fucking door.
Walk away, Felix.
The internal struggle continued for a few minutes, some kind of internal clock ticking away. Anxiety and fear surged through my veins as I argued with myself. I wanted to leave…to just walk the hell away…but I needed to know. And with that final thought of desperate curiosity, I took a single step forward. “Fuck. I can’t,” I groaned. “I can’t just walk away…not without knowing.” I lowered my mask and walked out from the dark alley, heading straight for her apartment.
Just one little check. Then I’ll go.
I slowly moved across the street, looking both ways at how desolate it was at this hour.
Empty as always. Good.
I silently reached the base of her apartment steps, her playlist still playing in my ears.
Just check the door and walk away. Simple.
The heel of my boot gently pressed against the surface of the first step, that overwhelming feeling of eager anxiousness growing from the sole of my foot and all the way up my body before landing in my chest. I took another…and another, cautiously ascending the concrete steps until I stood parallel to Dream’s front door.
Just one check…
My arm raised and I softly gripped the handle, twisting it slowly until it fully clicked. And just as I feared, it was left unlocked.
I fucking knew it.
I sighed, dropping my head as I stood there, the apartment door cracked open maybe an inch.
Only you would forget to lock it, little cottontail.
My eyes scanned the apartment. Neon magenta light flooded from the small crack, seeping out and pooling around my boots like a puddle, leaving my feet drenched in a fluorescent fuchsia glow. I looked at them and the corner of my lips tugged upwards at the idea that popped into my mind.
I mean…a little peek inside can’t hurt anybody.
I looked deeper into her ambient apartment.
She’ll never even know I was here.
I meticulously pulled another small piece of candy from my pocket, carefully unwrapping it and adding the trash to my discarded cigarettes before popping it into my mouth. It was a weird habit I’d formed over my many years of working for Charlotte’s Web, to ensure I left no trace of my existence behind. Much like my little addiction to sweet things. The sudden, sugary hit of the hard candy was one I sought out frequently, the flavor instantly melting on my tongue and soothing my nerves each time I devoured one. Eating candy had become a weird thing I did when coping with anxiety, something I started doing while still in the service. And even now, it still helped.
Down the rabbit hole I go…
I took a large step forward, cautiously creaking the door open as I stepped inside and quietly shut it behind me. The lock turned, clicking shut, ensuring no one would disturb me.
I stood just on the inside of her apartment, my eyes adjusting to the colorful fluorescent lighting and shadows, taking it all in. Directly inside the apartment was a small entryway, lined withshoes she’d worn often. Immediately off to the right was a decent sized living room, abundantly decorated and filled with anything and everything pink. With a small step, I approached the most recent pair of shoes she’d worn and adjusted my feet until my boots were lined up perfectly on either side. I then bent down and unlaced them, carefully taking them off and leaving them just as they were. The image of mine next to hers felt just right.
Now that’s better.
Dream’s playlist continued to play from my headphones as the hard candy rolled around in my mouth behind my teeth. I continued to venture further into her aesthetically pleasing apartment. The entryway, hallway, living room, and even the kitchen were all drenched in various shades of pinks. She had numerous glowing lights and signs strung along almost every wall in her home, leaving it in a vivid neon paradise. Instead of walking through a normal downtown apartment, I felt like I was instead touring some kind of underground club, complete with its very own shiny silver stripper pole perched in the corner of her living room. Seeing it stopped me dead in my tracks, and I tried to hold my smile.
