A few week later with no contact. Iris juggled her grocery bags while trying to unlock her apartment door, keys rattling with every nervous flick of her wrist. The hallway was dim—lit only by the flickering, half-dead glow of a sconce that hummed like it wanted to give up.
Her back ached. Her eyes stung. All she wanted was cold pasta and the chance to forget that she'd cried in public like a cracked windshield.
That's when she heard it—the soft click of a door shutting behind her.
She turned.
Adam.
He stepped out of the apartment directly across from hers, adjusting his coat sleeves like he hadn't just emerged from the shadows of another life. Black gloves. Blank expression. Calm stare.
Her brain stalled.
"Wait… you live here?"
A beat passed.
Then, smoothly: "Yeah. Just moved in."
Her stomach did a weird flip. She laughed awkwardly. "Seriously? Right across the hall?"
"Strange coincidence," he said, voice dry.
She nodded slowly. The silence dragged half a second too long.
"Wow. Small world."
Adam's hand flexed slightly at his side—like he was resisting the urge to reach for something. A knife? A truth?
Before she could question it, the elevator dinged behind them.
Tony.
Baseball cap. Loud hoodie. Takeout bag in hand. He looked like he'd been dropped in from a college campus, or a pizza commercial.
"Yo!" he called, strolling over with a grin. "Told you I'd drop it off, boss. You didn't answer your phone—ohhh." His eyes landed on Iris. "Hey there."
Iris blinked. "'Boss'?"
Adam's glare could've cracked concrete.
Tony froze. "I mean—uh, roommate. Boss of the couch. You know. Apartment jokes."
Adam cleared his throat. "Tony's helping me move some things in."
"Right," Iris said, eyebrows high. "Into the… apartment across from mine."
Tony smiled too wide. "Yep. We just finished clearing it out—uh, setting it up. Real homey. Plants and shelves and...vibes."
Adam moved smoothly to her side and took one of the grocery bags from her hands.
She blinked. "Thanks."
He didn't respond. Just carried it to her door and set it down gently.
Tony shot her a thumbs-up. "Nice to meet you. You're the girl from the—wait, are you Iris?"
"Tony," Adam warned, his tone ice-cold.
Tony coughed. "Right. Shutting up."
Adam straightened by the bag, still steady. Watchful.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "So you really live here?"
He nodded once. "Starting today."
Technically not a lie. He just left out the part where her previous neighbor wasn't exactly... leasing anymore.
"Well," she said, reaching for the door, "thanks. Again."
"Double lock it," Adam murmured.
Her fingers froze on the key. "Is that… a threat?"
"No," he said quietly. "It's advice."
And then he turned and walked away, Tony trailing after him, the two of them swallowed by the dim hallway.
Just before they rounded the corner, she heard Tony's voice—half-whispered, half-teasing:
"She's cute, man. You gonna tell her?"
Adam didn't answer.
And Iris stood in her doorway, heart pounding.
She didn't know why.
Tony followed a step behind as Adam descended the stairwell, tucking his gloves into his coat like he was sealing away whatever had just happened upstairs.
The hallway still smelled like bleach and old dust.
"You're seriously staying in this dump?" Tony asked, eyeing the cracked paint like it might infect him. "You, of all people?"
Adam said nothing. He stopped by the outer door, listening. No footsteps. No witnesses.
Tony shrugged. "Guess it's got perks." He smirked. "Like the girl."
Adam didn't react—but his shoulder twitched, just slightly.
Tony noticed. Kept going anyway.
"She's sweet. Way outta place here, though. You guys go on that date yet? Or are you still brooding and scaring her half to death?"
Adam turned slowly. His eyes were flat.
Tony grinned. "Hey, man—if you're not gonna make a move… I might try getting her number."
Silence.
Then:
"Don't."
Tony lifted both hands, eyebrows raised. "What, I need your permission now?"
Adam stepped toward him. Just once.
"You don't need my permission," he said, voice low. "You need common sense."
The air thickened.
Tony tried to laugh, but it came out wrong. "You're threatened by me?"
Adam stared at him like a butcher sizing up a stubborn pig. "You think this is about you?"
Tony opened his mouth. Closed it again.
Adam brushed past him toward the door.
"And don't joke about her," he added, almost as an afterthought. "Not if you want to keep all your teeth."
He vanished into the night like he'd just resolved a problem that hadn't even started yet.
Tony stood in the stairwell, blinking.
Then muttered under his breath, "Damn. He's got it bad."