The Stranger at the Door

The relief I felt when I finally unlocked the heavy wooden door to my new apartment was abruptly cut short. As soon as my foot crossed the threshold, a cold, clammy hand gripped my ankle tightly. An icy chill shot up my spine, and goosebumps prickled on my skin. I was frozen in the doorway, one foot inside and one foot out, trapped by the grip of a stranger's hand.

My heart thudded in my chest, pounding with fear as I tried to pull my foot free, but it was like trying to break free from a vice. I could feel the sweat beading on my forehead as I strained to look back and see who had grabbed me, but I was too terrified to turn around.

A hoarse whisper broke through the silence. "Bella, don't go. I need you." His voice was low and raspy, and I could hear the desperation in his tone.

I twisted my head to look down and saw him lying on the floor, his body twisted like a fallen tree trunk, his arm stretched out to grasp my ankle. His fingers were slimy with sweat, and I shuddered as I tried to pry them off.

He mumbled and muttered in his sleep, calling out to someone named 'Emily', begging her not to leave him. Despite the fear that gripped me, I felt a twinge of sympathy for this man - perhaps it was his vulnerability that stirred my compassion.

With shaking hands, I pulled his arm around my neck and heaved him up to his feet. We stumbled into the apartment together, the door slamming shut behind us with a heavy thud.

This was Jess - a man I hardly knew, save for his name. Yet as I whispered it under my breath, a small smile tugged at the corner of my lips. Leading him to the living room, I flicked on the lights and settled him onto one of the plush sofas.

And so began my strange and unexpected journey with Jess, in this new and unfamiliar apartment where I knew no one else.

The hot breath of the man lingered on my skin as it trailed down my exposed chest. His calm and sleeping face made me gaze at him for an extended period, but I eventually withdrew from him. Fortunately, Carl's apartment was equipped with two rooms, and I opened the door to one across the hall and flicked on its lights. The spacious room was adorned with luxurious furniture, including a bed made with delicate floral white sheets. I collapsed on the bed, exhausted, and fell asleep immediately.

My peaceful slumber was interrupted by incessant banging at the door. The sound had been going on for the past fifteen minutes, and I presumed that someone was trying to get into my room. Rolling over to check the time on my phone, which rested on the chest of the side table, I discovered it was 8:30 am. I was not a morning person, and the thought of being disturbed at this early hour was irritating.

Carl knew this, so it couldn't have been him knocking at the door. My forehead furrowed with concern as I lay there, staring at the plain white ceiling, listening to another round of banging. I eventually threw off the blanket and strolled lazily towards the door before opening it abruptly.

A tall figure, dressed in olive jeans and a black shirt, towered over me. His dark olive orbs were seductive and charismatic, and I couldn't resist the urge to dive deep into them. His personality was now more sophisticated and well-formed than last night. His body was balanced, and his aura was different.

"What's your problem?" I asked him right away, my curiosity piqued.

"Excuse me?" He countered, puzzled.

"May I ask who you are? What are you doing here, and who brought me here?" I fired off a barrage of questions at him.

"Wow, so many questions at once. Hold on, and I won't finish it quickly," he said in a smooth, calm voice. I wanted to have a prolonged discussion with him.

I continued to stare into his magnetic eyes while taking in his alcoholic aroma and sophisticated attitude. "Well, you're in my house right now," I said proudly.

He looked around in amazement before returning his gaze to me. "Are you kidding me? This is not your apartment."

"I'm not new to this place. It belongs to my friend Carl. You must be his guest or girlfriend, if I'm not wrong," I replied.

"I'm not his damn girlfriend," I huffed.

"Okay! Then who are you?" he inquired, his expression blank.

"I'm his sister," I informed him.

He scrutinized my appearance, taking in every detail, from my toes to my head, before finally meeting my eyes. "I see."

"So, you brought me in here?" he questioned.

"Yes," I replied.

"Why?" His expression became hard.

I was honest with him. At that moment, I was afraid of his presence in the doorway and in front of me.

"Because you were pleading by holding my feet," I said straightforwardly, trying to maintain my dignity and attitude.

I didn't care about the consequences that may arise from my bold statement. My words were spoken out of sheer confidence and conviction. "Eh, not even in my dreams I would do that to you or anyone else."

"But you did, if not in your dreams but reality," I added, feeling a surge of pride within me. His facial expressions twisted in an attempt to recall the events of the previous night. It was evident that he had no recollection of what had happened.

He looked at me with confusion, trying to make sense of what I had just said. "Are you trying to take revenge on me?" he asked, trying to grasp the situation.

"Why would I do that?" I countered, baffled by his question. He pursed his lips, searching for an answer. Before he could respond, the sound of keys turning in the lock and the clicking of the door opening interrupted our conversation.

The person entering was none other than Carl, the owner of the apartment. I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that he held the only set of keys to the place.

As he approached us, I could sense his disapproval of me standing at the door with a man who was his friend. The atmosphere between us grew increasingly awkward, but I pushed it aside and moved forward to hug Carl. "Thank God, you arrived. I was dying to meet you after so long."

Our embrace was warm and sincere, as we caught up on lost time. I couldn't help but feel grateful for Carl's timely arrival, which diffused the tension that had been building up between the stranger and me.