Lower Floor

AMANDA

«The words flowed from his lips, illuminating his luminous gaze; showing her that there was no more ethereal beauty than the one given off by her pale face. Then he took her in his arms, joining his forehead with hers, thinking that if that was a sin, he would gladly burn in the flames of hell.

Bright look?

I snorted and ripped the page from the notebook, balling it up and leaving it on the floor, where a small mountain of paper was beginning to accumulate; find a new page and start writing again.

I was one of the few people who needed to put their ideas on paper so that they could begin to take shape, if I tried to do it on the computer I would go blank. I hadn't even had three lines when a shrill sound startled me, causing me to draw a huge line in the middle of the page, ruining it completely.

I dropped the notebook on the table, frustrated and angry.

"Again? It is the third in the week »I thought obfuscated.

Almost instinctively I got up from the chair in front of the window of my apartment; the place where he used to work during the week. I walked to the door and yanked it open.

The corridor was completely deserted, that annoying sound again interrupted the tranquility of the building, although this time it was followed by a few giggles. I wrinkled my nose, that was completely ridiculous; I crossed the corridor quickly without bothering to close my door, at that point I was already beginning to see red.

I went down the stairs two at a time until I was on the ground floor. I reached the door of one of the apartments and read him the number on the gold plate, which was already as familiar to me as his own: 251. I knocked hard, not bothering to be nice or polite.

A tall, purple-haired woman with a carefree smile opened the door for me; Emiliana Basile already lived in that condominium when I moved in two years ago and from the first moment we met I knew that it was the cross that I had to bear for all my sins, which by the way is over, there weren't so many to deserve that punishment.

But going back to Emiliana, she was 30 years old, with tanned skin so typical of Italians and her family was originally from Palermo (I found out from a comment from our landlord, not because I was finding out about her) and from what she knew she could dedicate herself to to sell meth to addicts.

The Italian looked at me with amusement that she didn't bother to hide. With a grace that made me envious, she brushed a short lock from her forehead and tucked it behind her ear. He didn't say a word, but his sapphire gaze was fixed on me, expectant.

Not being the first time, I thought it was unfair to waste such eye color on a person like that. I cleared my throat, trying to make my voice sound confident.

"I'm so sorry to bother you so early. I'm sure you have very important activities to do, so I'll be brief. A note of sarcasm seeped into my words. "But whatever you're doing is heard all the way to my department and it won't let me work." I explained in a conciliatory tone.

For a moment her face was slightly pinkish with embarrassment; I felt good thinking that I had achieved my goal, however, that expression disappeared, being replaced by a mischievous smile and a mocking look. I instinctively squared my shoulders, preparing myself for a confrontation.

"You can say it, you know?" Your tongue will not be desecrated by pronouncing a simple word. he inquired in a tone of false courtesy. -Repeat after me: SEX. He pronounced opening his mouth wide to emphasize each of the letters.

Now I was the one who was completely red, although I didn't know if it was from grief or anger, maybe a little of both.

I shook my head, maybe too fast to be convincing and I knew that Emiliana would notice that little slip, I just hoped that she wouldn't comment on it or the beautiful floor would end up stained with blood and one of us convicted of murder.

I could tell by the twinkle in his eyes that he did, however, he didn't say anything about it.

"Good for you".

"I don't care what you were doing. I drawled.

-So what are you doing here? You know I was having sex, it's no secret. he asked, tilting his head.

He definitely had to stop pronouncing that word. She knew it was bothering me and she did it on purpose. I wasn't a nun, but I wasn't leading a promiscuous life either, and I wouldn't discuss my sexuality in the middle of the hallway, let alone with her.

I glared at her, looking at her from top to bottom, it was there that I realized that Emiliana was only wearing a delicate semi-transparent robe that revealed her lace underwear.

"My God! That outfit must cost more than my entire wardrobe."

If you weren't my sworn enemy, I would ask you for the name of the store where you bought it, if only to see, since I doubted that my salary would allow me to acquire something like that. Suddenly the idea that he was selling drugs didn't seem so crazy to me.

-The sounds and the giggles do not allow me to concentrate. You are very scandalous. -As soon as those words left my lips, I knew I shouldn't have said them, seeing that Emiliana's smile spread even more, if that was possible.

"Forgive me, I'm good at what I do, and my lovers often make a lot of noise." -he admitted shamelessly and leaning his body on the door.

I wanted to hang her right then and there, but forced myself to remember that murder was a crime, and in jail they wouldn't give me the notebooks I was used to writing on. The thought calmed me down.

"Then limit the sound to your space." - sentence emphatically.

"If it bothers you so much, you can join." He invited me with a mischievous smile. I blinked once and then twice to make sure that what I had heard was true and not a product of my imagination, although...

Why would I imagine those words?

"Not exactly my type." I said crossing my arms.

"The threesomes?" He asked raising an eyebrow.

-Share a partner.

"Do you believe in monogamy, neighbor?" she inquired amused, but notice that she was truly entertained by the conversation.

Fantastic! I had become the jester to that woman with the tanned skin and long legs.

I believe in avoiding an STD. I countered by rolling my eyes. Emiliana chuckled under her breath, but in the end she nodded, something that didn't really surprise me, it was always the same routine when I complained to him about something, which was almost all the time.

I'll try to lower the volume so as not to disturb you. he relented.

I sighed, relieved to be able to fix the situation. I nodded goodbye and turned on my heel to go back to my apartment. It wasn't until later, while she was taking a bath, that she realized she hadn't heard Emiliana close her door.

I moved to Rome two years ago, after completing my university studies, I had a degree in letters; Shortly after, I was contacted by an Italian publisher that was interested in publishing one of my manuscripts, so I didn't think about it too much, I packed my bags, took my savings and traveled from the USA to the capital of pizza, pasta and good wine.

The 25-year-old self wanted to become the next Jane Austen or JK Rowling, however, I soon learned that achieving that kind of fame requires more than an innate writing talent.

At first my story sold well, although not as much as I expected, which leads me to remember that whoever expects to get rich in this medium can wait sitting down.

Sales royalties barely helped me make ends meet, so I ended up being part of the bunch of writers who have to find a second income to survive; for which reason he had been working at Sapienza for two months University of Roma, one of the most important study houses in the country.

Don't get me wrong, I was proud to have found a position at a University where everyone was fighting for it, however, that had never been part of my dream, I wanted and aspired for more, not just to be a teacher.

I entered my apartment and after having closed it, I dropped on the door sliding my body to the floor. I buried my head between my knees.

"Straights!" I told myself.

Definitely everyone was prone to promiscuity and then they said that LGBTQI are the ones who jump from one couple to another, summing it up in one word: Hypocrites.

I was going to continue to rant about those who are attracted to the opposite sex, but the ringing of my phone snapped me out of my thoughts, and I picked up the phone and looked at the screen. I smiled automatically, it was Joshua, my best friend here in Italy.

"Where are you? I'm waiting for you in the cafe» I read in the message.

I hit my forehead with my hand, I had completely forgotten that we were supposed to meet today because it was my last day off before school starts again.

"I'm going there" I typed quickly, the answer didn't take long to arrive.

"You forgot, right?"

"Of course not!" I wrote back trying to appear indignant.

"I knew it would happen, hurry up" Joshua replied, ending the conversation.

I got up leaving my cell phone on the table, I wanted to take a quick shower before going out. My apartment was small, it only had one bedroom, a bathroom and a common space that served as a kitchen-dining room-living room, although the kitchen was separated from the rest by a gray counter.

What I liked the most was the window that overlooked the street, so I didn't feel so enclosed; I went straight into the bathroom where I got rid of my clothes and turned on the shower, letting a shower of steam fall on my back.

The hot water took away the tension I felt after my conversation with Emiliana, I delicately slid the soap over my body, I adored the aroma of pineapple it gave off. When I rinsed off I closed the key and covered myself with a towel to go out; I noticed that I had left my notebook in the living room and took it carefully not to get it wet.

My room was the most spacious place there, but it was still small compared to others. I wasn't complaining, I was single so everything was the perfect size for me: I had a double bed in the right corner of the room, a closet, a second-hand bookcase, a nightstand and, to my happiness, another window with green curtains.

I put the notebook in one of the compartments on the table and began to get dressed. The drops slid from my hair down my back, ending up falling on the floor where a puddle began to form. I took off the towel and dried my hair with it, I had it more or less long so it took me a long time to remove all the moisture.

Once ready I started to dress. I'm not going to describe the underwear I wore, I can only say that yes, it was patterned and I wasn't ashamed to admit it.

I liked to feel comfortable. I pulled out a pair of beige yoga pants and matched them with a black crop top that left my underbelly bare. I put on sneakers that were once white and took a comb to untangle my red curls.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I decided to let them down, pinning up a few strands that were falling on my forehead with some white bobby pins, I applied some gloss to my lips and I was ready to go. I picked up my cell phone and the fanny pack I used to go out with, along with my keys.

Yes, it is a most versatile accessory and I don't mind that they give me the appearance of a little girl.

I closed the door behind me and called the elevator. I sent a quick text to Joshua telling him that I was already near the cafeteria, that he will drop the plan to kill me that his twisted mind had recommended to him, in response I received a middle finger emoji.

I laughed, drawing the attention of some neighbors who had gathered, also waiting for the elevator.

I got on with the rest of the people and in a couple of minutes I was at the entrance, I greeted our warden, the signore Lucianno was an old man, about 60 years old, but that didn't take away from the joviality and charm with which he greeted us every morning. He appreciated it very much, even though every time he saw me he wanted to show me photos of the large number of grandchildren and great-grandchildren he had.

- Good morning , Signorina Amanda. He greeted with a smile. He was sitting behind the reception desk, eating a sfogliatelle accompanied by a steaming cup of coffee.

- Good morning signore Lucianno . I repeated, raising my hand in greeting. - Sarai fuori tutto ill day ?. He asked raising an eyebrow.

If it came from another person, that question would have been impertinent and reckless, however, I knew that he was not doing it out of malice or ulterior motives, but because he really cared about us, which touched me.

Sometimes I wondered why a man his age continued to work, since it was time for him to retire. Once I dared to ask him my doubt, to which he simply replied that he enjoyed doing it and as long as he had the strength, he would continue doing it.

-No, I'm just for a little bit with a friend . Torneró prima che faccia buio . -I replied. I couldn't hear the answer as I immediately left.

He lived at 56 Via Alberto Giussano , in the Pigneto neighborhood . In a four-story brick building, which was in the middle of a bakery and fruit stand; It was definitely not the most glamorous area in Italy, however it was comfortable and quiet enough for me, plus La Sapienza was only a twenty-four minute metro ride away and the nearest station was a four-minute walk away.

The wind blew, causing my hair to stand on end, I regretted not having taken a coat before going out, but I remembered that at noon the sun was hot enough to do without it, afterward I would be all sweaty.

Good luck to me, the place where I would meet Joshua was not far from my house at all, I only had to walk five minutes and I was in Piazza dei Condottieri . One of the most beautiful places in the neighborhood, at that time it was quite crowded by people who were dedicated to reading, having breakfast, feeding the birds, etc.

Everything one wanted to do was covered by the charming structure of the square; I looked around the picnic table for Joshua, it didn't take long to find him, who was approaching me with two coffees and a lopsided smile.