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» The Complex #1 — Read Attuma’s POV in the companion piece «
Okoye had never seen this man before. If she had, she definitely would’ve remembered—probably down to the exact detail, he was that good looking. His tall physique and long dark hair drew him immediately to her attention as he leaned forward to reach his mailbox in one of the lower rows. The glimpse of his firm, round backside that his position afforded her also made a major impression.
Tearing her eyes away from the pleasing sight, she spied over his shoulder on her way to the elevator, and was barely able to make out the number on the box’s door. Apartment 605. That put him in the dwelling right above hers. It was no wonder, from his height and bulk, that her evenings had recently become filled with the stomping of heavy footsteps from above. She’d been tempted to cause her own disturbance by banging the handle of her broom on the ceiling, but resisted, choosing instead to put in her earbuds. Now seeing the culprit, she could easily forgive his transgressions.
Had her friends been around, Okoye was sure that Aneka, the more laidback of the two, would have called him, “Beefy,” his arms bulging beneath his t-shirt (and stretching it close to capacity) with the flex of his elbow. While her other friend, Nakia, the well-read scholar, more likely would’ve gone the route of describing him as, “Tall, dark and handsome,” taking into account the brooding expression on his face as he sorted through his mail. It was probably all bills, much the way hers had been earlier.
Waiting for the elevator, Okoye continued to ogle him, pretending to be absorbed in her phone. His hands looked massive—the fingers long and tapered with what looked to be clean and neatly trimmed nails. This gave him another good checkmark in her book. There were few things more unattractive than a man with raggedy, dirty fingernails. His hands also looked strong, veins running across the unblemished skin on its back. She was just beginning to envision what those hands could do when he suddenly looked up, his eyes instantly locking on hers.
She’d been caught staring, like a weirdo. Reflexively, she wielded the most powerful weapon she currently had at her disposal: her smile. Beaming in his direction, she put her pearly whites on full display. She’d always been told that she had a radiant smile and prayed that it would help dispel any creepy stalker vibes that he could have been, incorrectly, sensing.
He smiled back, and her breath hitched. “Maybe not so dark after all,” she thought to herself, slightly dazed as she watched his face light up. To her astonishment, two small indentations appeared on either side of his cheeks. Dimples so adorable they gave him a boyish charm that refuted the badass energy evoked by his stature and muscles. She was close to smitten, to say the least.
Just as she was working up the courage to introduce herself, the elevator chimed behind her. Its doors slid open and the person inside, obviously in a hurry, clipped her shoulder on their way out. Turning to glare at them, Okoye found W’Kabi, the obnoxious butthole from down the hall. “Of course, it would be him,” her mind supplied as her glower deepened. Flipping him the bird behind his back, Okoye then returned her attention to the mailboxes. Unfortunately, it was to find that the handsome stranger had left before she could speak to him.
» Regular People AU || Attoye Prompt Drabbles || Master List «
» The Complex #1.5 — Companion piece to Upstairs neighbor «
Attuma was nearing the end of his second full week living in his new apartment and was, very much, happy he’d gone through with his decision to move. He hadn’t had the time to formally meet his new neighbors, but had noticed that a lot of the people on his floor looked to be around his age, which he greatly appreciated.
The last place he’d lived had housed mostly older couples, people over twice his age who’d apparently had too much time on their hands. They’d been nosy and meddlesome, complaining about the slightest noise or sound that came from his apartment. It had put a cramp on his style: preventing his guitar playing and interrupting his ability to entertain his family and friends. His sex life had taken a nosedive, Attuma hesitant to have women over after his closest neighbor had phoned the police due to the banging of his headboard. It’d felt like serendipity when a unit in this building, dubbed The Complex, had opened up around the time his lease had been coming to an end.
Stepping off the building’s front elevator, to check his mailbox, Attuma was halted in his steps by the vision stood outside on the sidewalk. The woman was gorgeous, at least what was visible to him from the property’s large windows was, and, from her toned arms and stomach, he could imagine that the rest of her was just as appealing. Held captivated, he took in her glistening dark skin. The light sheen of sweat, she must have accumulated from her workout, made it look as though she was glowing as she stretched, her body arching back and then forward. Damn, what he wouldn’t give to talk to her.
It seemed as though fate was again in his favor, when instead of continuing her jog down the street, she entered the building. Quickly pivoting his body, he averted his gaze to the rows of mailboxes situated before him. Thankfully, he was able to easily find his own. He bent over and busied himself sorting through its contents to cover up that he’d been gawking at her. Once he heard her footsteps move past him, he snuck another glance at her and shamelessly checked out the round ass that her leggings did nothing to hide. He delighted in the sway of her hips as well. Biting his bottom lip, he briefly fantasized about the lewd things he could do to such a delicious looking body.
He was forced to redirect his eyes once more when she turned from the elevators to face in his direction. Staring at his mail, he actually took note of what had arrived. It was clear that his change of address forms had been received as he sifted through bill after bill, his name boldly printed on each one. Frowning, he glared at the stack. He really needed to go paperless. Trees didn’t need to die to bring this misery to his door.
Needing a pleasing sight to uplift his spirits, he chanced another peek at the woman, only to find her staring at him. Eyes locked, it seemed like time stilled while he drowned in her ebony orbs. He thought they would go on like that forever, taking the other in, but she further disarmed him—smiling the most beautiful of smiles, her entire face as radiant as the sun. Helpless, Attuma could do nothing but smile back and pray that his legs, which had gone weak at the knees, would continue to hold him up.
The chime of the elevator’s arrival was his saving grace, breaking the spell that she’d casted over him. His cellphone’s buzzing followed soon after and made him move his attention from her.
“Shit,” he muttered to himself, reading the text message his cousin had sent. He was late meeting her, and if there was one thing she hated, it was tardiness. She would be on him for the rest of the day.
Groaning, he headed out of the building. He tried to catch one last glimpse of the woman on his way out, but was blocked by the man coming off the elevator. On the other side of the doorway, he vowed to speak to her, and learn her name, the next time their paths crossed.
