Neighbours Part 5
Euro Masterlist 𐴱 Lords of Chaos Masterlist 𐴱 Rory Culkin Masterlist 𐴱 Main Masterlist 𐴱 Taglist 𐴱 Reading List 𐴱 Pinned Post 𐴱 Moodboard side-Blog A/N: This is part five of my Neighbours miniseries PARTS: 1 𐴱 2 𐴱 3 𐴱 4 𐴱 5 𐴱 6 Series Masterlist
Summary: You and Øystein share a cup of coffee on the stairs, and somehow, it spirals into a messy break. (Very angsty and sry friends, but no smut. I need plot with my porn. You’ll get it in the next chapter, I swear.)
Words cannot describe how surprised you were to find Øystein sitting on your stairs in the morning.
You paused at the top of the steps and blinked at him, tightly clutching your coffee and cigarettes.
“What are you doing here?” You frowned, slowly lowering yourself to sit a few steps up from him.
“Hoping for Jan?” he scowled, not missing the way your hoodie was bunched up around the dark bruise on your neck, covering it.
“Oh, my god.” You groaned, “You’re here to scare Jan off?”
“I can’t sit here?”
“Sure you can.” You were still suspicious. “You’re waiting for me?”
“No.” He sounded far too defensive. “You made Jan coffee, are you going to make me any?”
“You know, everytime I see you, you’re a little less of a dick,” you smirked into the brim of your coffee cup, taking a sip before holding it out to him “Very nice of you to ask.”
He looked at the cup for a moment, like he didn’t understand.
“You wanna feel special?” You nodded towards the cup expectantly, looking amused. “I’ll share my coffee with you. I wouldn’t do that with Jan.”
He took it, grumbling under his breath, but you could see the cracks forming.
They’d started the second you’d told him you wouldn’t fuck anyone else and you could tell that the rest of him was splintering.
You lit your cigarette and took a drag, leaning back against the railing while he sipped your coffee.
“You know, sharing means you give it back, right?” You asked after a minute, biting back a smile.
Øystein rolled his eyes but reached out to hand it back to you.
“Are we going to have a conversation, or are you really just out here to keep Jan away?”
“A conversation about what?” he scowled.
“I dunno,” you shrugged. “Regular stuff? I don’t really know anything about you.”
“I already told you, I’m not your boyfriend.”
“Yeah, I get it. Believe me, I have no interest in being your girlfriend either.” You scoffed, “I’m just trying to be civil.”
Øystein couldn’t deny that hearing you say that irritated him, but he did what he could to hide it, looking away.
“Yeah, well, don’t.” He muttered, shaking his head, “I don’t want to talk to you. I told you, it’s just fucking.”
“I was gonna ask if maybe you wanted to come in,” You sighed, taking one last drag off your cigarette. “But if you’re gonna be like that, then have fun with your sulking, asshole.”
“Why would I want to come in?” He snapped, glancing up at you as you stood.
“I was going to take a shower, but I think I’d rather take it alone now.” You shrugged, trying to sound as casual as possible, knowing he’d fold at some point. “I’ll leave the door unlocked in case you decide you’re done being a dick.”
“Someone’s gonna walk in and murder you if you leave your door unlocked!” He shouted after you, unwilling to admit that he was very much struggling not to chase you up the stairs. If you just locked it, he wouldn’t have to fight the urge to go up there.
You didn’t.
You’d finished washing your hair by the time he yanked back the shower curtain.
Even though you knew he’d come, you still jumped.
“Fuck!” you shrieked, instinctively crossing your arms over your chest to hide your tits. “Couldn’t have just gotten in?”
“I’m not getting in.” He shrugged, leaning back against the counter, fully clothed and staring at you with a smug look on his face.
“Then why the fuck are you here?”
“You’re trying to fuck with my head.” He said simply, sipping from a fresh cup of coffee.
“Did you make yourself a coffee before coming in here?” You asked, in disbelief.
“Yep,” he smirked.
You sighed in defeat, shutting off the water and reaching for a towel.
Øystein snatched it off the towel rack before you could touch it and threw it into the hallway.
“Very nice.” You rolled your eyes and stepped out of the tub, dripping water everywhere. “Real mature of you.”
It only bothered you a little that you were completely nude while he was still dressed. It wasn’t like he’d never seen you naked.
He was obviously trying to make a power move, and you weren’t going to allow it.
“So, what do you want then?” You challenged, looking up at him. “Just felt like watching me shower?”
“Maybe.”
“Quite the contradiction to the ‘just fucking’ claim you made outside.” you scoffed, heading for the door, still soaking wet. “You don’t get to watch me shower then say its just fucking.”
“Why not?” He stepped out into the doorway, blocking it, only inches away from your face, as he narrowed his eyes. “You don’t get to share your coffee and lure me up here, then say you don’t want to be my girlfriend.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake.” You groaned, “That’s what this is? You’re mad I don’t wanna be your girlfriend?”
“No.” He snapped harshly, “I already told you. I don’t want you.”
You visibly flinched, a little surprised by how much it hurt to hear him say it like that.
‘I don’t want to be your boyfriend.’ is one thing, but ‘I don’t want you’?
Ouch.
Your face fell and he immediately knew he’d fucked up. He opened his mouth, not sure what he would have said if you hadn’t looked away immediately.
“Get out,” you breathed, shoving him when he didn’t move.
You slipped past him and snatched the towel off the ground, wrapping it around yourself.
“Seriously,” you said louder, watching him just stand in the doorway with your coffee mug. “Get the fuck out of my house, Øystein.”
Finally, he sighed and brushed past you, hesitating before reaching for the door.
He looked over at you, and the blank look on your face, but you just shook your head at him.
“Go.”
So, he did.
You felt the tears welling up in your eyes the second the door slammed shut, and angrily wiped them away when they fell. It all felt so stupid. Crying over a man whose last name you didn’t even know? You hadn’t even known his first name till a few days ago and were pretty sure you still hated him a little!
Yet, there you were.
Upset because he didn’t want you.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the door, Øystein stood at the top of the stairs, so fucking confused and angry with himself.
He didn’t know what he wanted, but he did know for sure that it wasn’t this.
For the next three days, Øystein glanced out the window at the stairs leading up to your door every morning, but he didn’t see you once.
He thought maybe you’d gone back to smoking out the window, but he’d popped his head outside a few times and hadn’t seen it open.
He tried to convince himself that he didn’t care, but that had stopped working the second he’d seen you with another man, even if it had been your brother-in-law.
There was no denying the way he’d felt the last time you’d fucked. The way he’d held you after, even if it was only for a minute. He’d been thinking about it just as much as you had.
On the fourth day, he caught you coming home from work.
It hadn’t even been intentional.
He’d just gotten back from the studio and had stopped by the stairs to light a cigarette.
You both froze.
“Fuck.” You muttered under your breath.
You’d done all you could to avoid him over the last few days. Leaving earlier than usual, when you knew he’d still be asleep, and peering around the corner before stepping onto your street just in case he was hanging out outside.
He looked about as shitty as you felt.
His hair was greasy, and there were light, but still there, bags under his eyes.
He didn’t seem to you like the type to say sorry, but he sure looked it.
You’d done a lot of thinking over the last few days and decided that you shouldn’t be allowing this to affect you as much as it was. He was just the guy who lived downstairs. An asshole who you’d fucked a whopping three times and hadn’t said a single kind thing to you since you’d met.
You decided to keep walking and went for the stairs, but he grabbed you by the wrist before you could pass him.
“Okay, wait.” He said it far softer than you’d expected, setting his guitar down so he could use both hands to keep you from fleeing. “Just wait a minute.”
You didn’t even struggle a little bit.
Just stood there and let him hold you by the arm, blinking at him.
“I don’t know why I said that.” He muttered, gazing down at you like it pained him to choke out anything that even resembled an apology. “I didn’t mean it.”
“Whatever, Øystein.” You breathed shakily, looking away.
He’d completely killed your confidence in a matter of seconds the other day and you were so pissed at yourself for being so ruined by a single comment that you felt like you were going to start crying all over again.
It was weird seeing you so upset.
Usually, you were angry and yelling, but now, you looked so defeated and small that it made his chest hurt.
It was his fault you felt so shitty and he hated himself for it
You weakly pulled your wrist from his grip and were surprised to find that it made you feel worse when he let you.
It all seemed to hit you all at once, and you couldn’t stop the few tears that escaped your eyes.
You wiped them away angrily, but he saw them. Of course he did.
“Aw, fuck.” He felt a pang in his chest. “Don’t cry.”
You started climbing the stairs before you could break out into full-on sobs, leaving him standing there.
Before you could get your key in the lock, he seemed to snap out of it and grabbed his guitar case. He jogged up the stairs and made it to the top just as you were turning the knob. Before you could shut the door on him, Øystein pushed his way inside and let the door slam shut behind him.
You groaned tiredly, throwing your bag on the floor.
Now, he was starting to piss you off.
“Øystein, get the fuck out.” You looked up at him, looking annoyed, but no longer crying, which was progress as far as he was concerned.
“No.” he set his guitar down.
“How the fuck could you think I don’t want you?” He asked you, suddenly equally as annoyed when he realized that he could spin this on you at least a little.
“Because you fucking told me you didn’t!” you shouted, throwing your arms out in exasperation.
“Of course I fucking want you!” He spat “I want you so bad that I just chased you up the fucking stairs!”
You were quiet, breathing heavily only a few feet away from him. You looked sad and confused, like you might start crying again, and he really didn’t want that. So, he closed the distance and pulled you into his chest abruptly, shocking both of you.
“I want you so bad that everytime I see you, I just need to fucking have you.” He muttered into your hair, wrapping his arms around you while you stood there, stunned. “I’m sorry. Okay?”
“You’re such a fucking asshole.” your voice was muffled by his chest, but your arms wound their way around him too after a minute.
“I know.” He cracked the tiniest, relieved smile, glad you couldn’t see it.
Part 6
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