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New Neighbor
Dec. 5th, 2017 05:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
on_ur_leftIt started with scuffles and faint thumping through the walls. It was a nice apartment, but Steve had pretty good hearing (understatement, that), and he knew the apartment beside his was empty, so it was—
Unusual.
Curious.
No one had ever blamed Steve of not being curious. The opposite had been said plenty of times, though, along with the requisite saying about cats.
Steve swept his pencil along his paper a couple more times, lips pursed, until there was an almost-audible-to-normal-ears thunk from the hallway.
Okay, he had to know. Setting his sketchbook and pencil down on the coffee table, Steve stood, absently brushing his hands down his legs to smooth out any wrinkles - despite currently wearing his 'around home' jogging pants, which didn't really do wrinkles. Force of habit.
Moving over to the door, he hesitated. Was it really any of his business? He'd lived in the 21st century for almost 2 years now, he understood that things were different. People kept to themselves more; yeah, you might greet your neighbor if you saw them, know them by name, but you didn't really stick your nose in anybody's business, unless they invited you to, first.
Still. He could go over and see if they needed help, whatever was going on.
Slowly, Steve pulled his door open, then stuck just his head out, before moving until half his body was out in the hall - if he was spotted, he didn't want to look like some disapproving asshole.
Unusual.
Curious.
No one had ever blamed Steve of not being curious. The opposite had been said plenty of times, though, along with the requisite saying about cats.
Steve swept his pencil along his paper a couple more times, lips pursed, until there was an almost-audible-to-normal-ears thunk from the hallway.
Okay, he had to know. Setting his sketchbook and pencil down on the coffee table, Steve stood, absently brushing his hands down his legs to smooth out any wrinkles - despite currently wearing his 'around home' jogging pants, which didn't really do wrinkles. Force of habit.
Moving over to the door, he hesitated. Was it really any of his business? He'd lived in the 21st century for almost 2 years now, he understood that things were different. People kept to themselves more; yeah, you might greet your neighbor if you saw them, know them by name, but you didn't really stick your nose in anybody's business, unless they invited you to, first.
Still. He could go over and see if they needed help, whatever was going on.
Slowly, Steve pulled his door open, then stuck just his head out, before moving until half his body was out in the hall - if he was spotted, he didn't want to look like some disapproving asshole.