The elevator dings. The doors open. A girl stands outside, jaw dropping when she witnesses us staring not-so-lovingly into each other’s eyes.

“You’ve always moved fast, Harper, but I believe this is a record!” she giggles.

“It isn’t what it looks like!” Harper bellows, swinging away from me. He has forgotten the fallen boxes, trips forward, seems to break something in a box, then lands face first on the floor.

“My boxes… I dropped them and tripped, then tripped again,” he grumbles against the floor. “I’m really sorry about this,” he adds, glancing up at me.

I don’t respond while stepping around said boxes, some slightly damp from my ruined beverage (rest in peace,) eager to get away from the Regrettably-Very-Hot-Catastrophe-Walking aka Harper. At my door, Harper and Mystery Girl walk past me, damaged boxes in their arms.

Before I unlock my door, Harper shouts joyfully, “Wow, we’re more than floor buddies!”

I look up, spotting Harper standing at the door next to mine.

He beams. “It’s nice to meet you, neighbor!”

Nice isn’t the word I would use…

The girl steps inside, leaving the door open for Harper. He doesn’t follow. Setting the boxes aside, he faces me and says, “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

Because I didn’t tell you and I don’t want to.

I bite back the snide remark. Best to maintain forced pleasantries with neighbors. I’ve had enough time to learn that being an unresponsive jerk causes more issues than being a fake acquaintance.

“Adrian Brent,” I reply.

“I’m Mindy!” The girl calls, swinging out of Harper’s apartment. She winks. “If anyone cares.”

“She’s not a new neighbor, though. I’m a solo package,” Harper explains, nose pointed high in exaggerated confidence.

“Unfortunately for you, of course.” Mindy flips her long black hair over her shoulder.

“Are you hungry?” Harper asks. His gaze feels like it’s looking right through me. A shiver rolls down my spine. “We’re going to order some pizza. I promise you can have some free of charge!”

“Why does he get special treatment?” Mindy pouts, crossing her arms and leaning her weight to one side. “You said I’d only get pizza if I helped you unpack.”

“You aren’t the neighbor I’m trying to impress after totally humiliating myself in front of him,” Harper whispers into her ear, although it isn’t much of a whisper, seeing as I hear every word. I imagine I was meant to.

“I promise I’m not always this much of a klutz,” Harper adds, laughing.

“He’s lying,” Mindy declares, earning herself a swift pinch to her arm. She squeaks, but it doesn’t take the impish grin from her face.

While the promise of free pizza is certainly enticing, I’m not foolish enough to fall into this trap. Making connections, forming attachments to those who will inevitably leave hasn’t been on my to do list in a long, long time.

“Thanks for the offer, but I have some work to attend to. If you’ll excuse me.” I swiftly step inside, briefly catching Harper’s disappointed gaze. The door shuts and I lock it behind me.

“I can’t believe I’m already off on the wrong foot with my neighbor,” I hear Harper say on the other side of the door. A soft stomp follows.

“Understandable. You were groping him in an elevator before you even knew his name.” Mindy giggles.

“I—that—I wasn’t groping him! And it was an accident!” Harper’s voice fades. They must have gone inside.

I’m glad that’s done and over with. Hopefully, the elevator incident is the last I associate with Harper. I’ve gotten this far by living quietly under the radar. It doesn’t take a genius to realize after spending time with me that my circumstances are unique. Above-average strength accompanied by a ridiculously long life of continued good health? I learned early on that people would make up stories about me… make me into something I’m not. Worse, some would attempt to investigate me, to test my strength or try my mortality. 3,000 years ago they thought I was some kind of God. Nowadays, who knows what they’d think. Distance is safety, in more ways than one, so my plans are to live a peaceful life and eventually die one day, preferably in a mundane manner.

In contrast, though, I’d only known Harper a few minutes and I can already tell that he’s the very definition of an attention-seeker. He was wearing bright colors from head to toe, you could use him to guide ships to shore. He’s someone who will ruin the tranquility of my life. Avoidance is necessary.

I kick off my shoes and switch on the lights to the always-empty apartment that has changed little since the day I rented it. It has modern furniture, monotone in color, a few framed posters of my favorite movies on the walls, and it’s sparkling clean. Steering clear of military life the last few decades should have broken the incessant need to keep everything tidy, but alas, I’ve yet to break the habit. I’m always folding everything neatly or scrubbing the counter if I see so much as a crumb, because all the drill sergeants and commanders I had in days of old suddenly start shouting in my head when I don’t. It’s a miracle my ears still function correctly after the millennia of abuse they went through in the military.

About thirty minutes later, there’s a knock at the door. I don’t remember ordering anything? I check my phone for messages about a package being delivered, but nothing.

I open the front door. No one’s there, but there’s a covered paper plate on the floor with two steaming pieces of pizza and a sticky note.

Sorry about earlier! I hope you like pepperoni and extra cheese.

-Harper

I head to the kitchen where I hold the plate over the trash...but to throw away perfectly good pizza is an insult to the universe and my growling appetite. Against my better judgement, I dig in, binge bad TV, then pass out.

Some time later, I wake up to the sound of explosions. Gunfire in the distance. Screaming. The smell of smoke. I jump out of bed, searching for my target in the dark, only to realize it isn’t the sound of battle I hear. It’s bad pop music from the apartment next door.

What the hell is Harper doing at—I check my phone—three in the morning?! I understand it’s the weekend, but you have neighbors trying to sleep!

I suppose I can be understanding. For now. He just moved in, he’s probably throwing a party to celebrate. I’m not in the mood for confrontation right now anyway.

Dropping into bed, I rub my palms into my temple, willing the flashes of battle scenes to dissipate. There are too many to count from every age of war, each blending together. My heart races, fearful of what’s in the dark.

There’s no use trying to go back to sleep when my hands continue to shake. An ache swells in my ankle, rippling up my leg until everything below my knee tingles. I switch on a light to illuminate the room before I imagine long dead friends and enemies standing at the edge of my bed. There’s one far worse than the others. When he visits, I don’t get to sleep for at least a week.

The music continues well past four o’clock, after I’ve watched a few episodes of some dumb reality show and taken a cold shower. Then all is quiet, and I drift back to sleep with my bedroom light still on.