A Knock Away

Hey Neighbour

An unexpected knock at my door, made me drop the bag of flour. Dusted like a doughnut, I blinked, eyelashes coated in a thin layer of snow-like powder. I wasn't used to visitors. Had it been Wednesday it might have been my weekly Chinese delivery to spice up my life since lockdown, however, it was a bland Monday. Believing I was hearing things, I checked on the mixer combining the ingredients to create my signature ultra-thin crust chocolate croissants.

The knock came again. I peered through the peephole, coming across my neighbour. He'd moved in this year and we hadn't really had time to get to know each other. Here's what I learnt from the first few months, before the pandemic. His name was Vince, he was from an Italian and Greek family, owned a pizza shop only a few blocks from my bakery and he was utterly gorgeous. I found myself biting my lip as I looked out at him, even though he was slightly distorted through the small round glass peephole. He had thick, coal coloured hair, short, with small sideburns, full eyebrows, and chestnut eyes that were dreamy and shaped like almonds. He appeared rather tall, and his apartment was a revolving door for beautiful, leggy women from blonde, to red haired to brunette. At least he didn't have a type, except for the fact they all could have been on the next cover of Vogue.

I opened the door, covered in flour, wearing a hello kitty apron and a floppy bun, aka bed hair.

"Hey neighbour," his pearly white teeth shone through a side smile, his voice deep with a slight accent.

A bit of flour fell in my eye and I wiped at it furiously, "Bastard!"

"Well, I've been called worse," Vince tilted his head with a slight smile thinking I was talking to him.

"No, not you," I rubbed my eyes, "Oh flour in the eye, flour in the eye!"

"Here," his calm velvety voice sounded, and I could feel his minty breath on my cheek, followed by a light breeze.

Suddenly I felt relief, his breath abolishing the flour from my eyes.

"Neat trick," I said through red watery eyes, having made a great impression, not.

"Happens all the time," he was being kind.

I nodded, having to laugh at myself, "Pizza injury?"

"Si," he grinned, his accent making my knees weak. "So, you know I work at a pizza shop?"

Standing there for a moment in complete silence I became swept up in his hazel eyes.

"Hannah," I blurted.

"Vince," he tried not to laugh.

I already knew his name, as it was often shouted by females in his apartment at certain hours of the night, either in passion or fury, or both.

Vince started to rock on his heels, towering over me, "I was just wondering, and this may be a little strange..."

My heart started to beat faster, and I accidently blurted out, "Yes," before he had time to finish.

"Um," he seemed a little confused but went with it, "I was wondering if I could use your shower?"

"What?" I titled my head, thinking he had something else in mind.

"The hot water's out in my place, bills have been a bit of a," he looked for the right words to use, "well, to use your term, bastard and due to Covid it's been a nightmare trying to get any plumbers in."

"Of course," I nodded since we were allowed visitors if they were from our same apartment block.

"Great," he clapped. "No-one wants a stinky neighbour," he scoffed.

"No, we don't," I chuckled, accidently snorting, wanting to shoot myself. Immediately regretting the state my bathroom was in with makeup brushes all spread around the room and the floor littered with empty toilet rolls I'd been too lazy to pick up.

He seemed amused by me so continued to speak, "What are you baking?"

"Chocolate croissants. I've come to realise comfort food is definitely going to get the better of me sometime during this lockdown, so I may as well succumb to it now and just enjoy it." The smell was intoxicating. I'm not one to toot my own horn but I had been anticipating the gooey goodness all day, the scent of buttery pastry and creamy chocolate churning my stomach.

"I couldn't tell you how many desert pizzas I've made myself," Vince scoffed, grabbing his stomach, which was rock hard, his abs showing through his tight black t-shirt. I couldn't help but laugh at his attempt to hide the fact that he worked out every day. I could hear him in the early hours doing sit ups groaning, well that's what I think he's doing, since girls can't visit now.

Something came over me, maybe it was the fact that I had a perfectly beautiful man standing at my door, but I became rather sociable and said, "Would you like to come in? Then you can have a shower."

"Yeah," he beamed. "Maybe you can teach me how to make croissants," waltzing in, his cologne smelt of pepper and black liquorish.

I closed the door and turned back to lean on the inside before muttering quietly to myself, "Maybe you can teach me some stuff too."