For the most part, she’d never once come across any problems in her building since she’d moved to Wilmington four years ago. At least, at first. That all changed when the married couple that lived next door to her opted out of the apartment to find a bigger place, something about a tribe of children and a golden retriever. In her mind, she’d have let them knock out the wall between their apartments and learned to live with it if it meant she didn’t get their replacement. Despite her mother's infatuation with some seriously dark beliefs, Elena didn’t believe in heaven or hell or anything that might live in either, but something about Feliks Marinov made her a little less skeptical about the possibility that a human being could be possessed by something otherworldly. That was the only explanation she had for the burning irritation that flooded her veins whenever he was around. The intention had been to hold her tongue as she made her way up the stairwell of their apartment building, wondering briefly when the documents she’d asked her uncle to send her would arrive. They sure as hell should have arrived by now, yet, her mailbox downstairs remained empty. Empty, she realized, because the contents of what should have been there lay spilled across the floor outside her front door.
Grit teeth caught her at the sound of his door opening beside her as she lent to scoop everything up. Ignore it..-- Ignore him. Fuck it. “Hey.. Hey, asshole!” In retrospect, it was mostly likely that he hadn’t actually touched anything. Hell, it could have been nothing more than a mistake - her mail in the wrong slot.. but even knowing he was in the same vicinity as her, was usually enough to grate her nerves and jump to conclusions. Jumping back to her feet, Elena caught the edge of the stairs behind him. “You know, you can be as much of a pig as you like, slam as many doors as you want to and trick all the girls you’ve ever slept with to come knock on my door at four am just for a laugh, but my mail? ---- Really?”