Dive Deep into Creativity: Discover, Share, Inspire
Jeyda’s eyes flickered to hers for a moment, almost imperceptible—enough to catch the question but not answer it. His lips tightened, a small shift in his posture, but his gaze quickly drifted to the ground, focusing on the faint crack in the pavement as if it held the answers. He didn’t want to talk about the city. The city didn’t matter. The past didn’t matter. Not right now.
“Yep, new to the building not to the city” he muttered, his voice still rough. He shifted again, ready to end this little exchange, but her smile—her lightness—hung in the air like a tug on his chest. She was persistent. It was almost unsettling considering the harshness he had become used to in prison.
“Though it's been a while since I've been out in the city,” he added, this time quieter. He didn’t know how much more he could give her.
Aylin beamed, her usual sunny disposition not even slightly dimmed by Jeyda’s reticent demeanor. The way his fingers had barely grazed hers when he took the mail did make her pause for a fraction of a second, though. She wondered if he was alright.
"You're welcome!" Aylin chirped, her voice light and airy like the dandelion seeds she sometimes saw floating through the courtyard. She noticed he didn't look at the envelopes, and a small frown tugged at her brow. Legal firm mail wasn't usually cause for celebration, was it?
When his rough, quiet 'thanks' came, Aylin just nodded. She didn't expect him to say more. Jeyda never did. She held his gaze for a moment longer, a gentle, unspoken question in her bright eyes. Maybe he just needed a friendly face, even if he didn't want to admit it.
Seeing him tuck the stack under his arm, Aylin gave a small tilt of her head. "Have you settled in? I know you're new to the building but what about the city?" she questioned curiously.
Jeyda’s fingers twitched, but he didn’t move to take the mail right away. His eyes, dark and unreadable, flicked from the envelopes to the woman standing before him—Aylin. 4B. Too many words, too much warmth. He wasn’t used to either.
A beat passed. Then another.
Finally, he reached out, taking the stack from her hand with deliberate slowness. The legal firm's gold lettering gleamed in the sunlight, but he didn’t bother looking at it. He already knew what was inside.
His voice, when he spoke, was low, rough from disuse. "Thanks." Nothing more. No welcome, no acknowledgement of her offer. Just that.
Jeyda turned the mail over once in his hand, then tucked it under his arm. His gaze settled on her, not quite meeting her eyes but near enough. Aylin was still watching him, waiting—for what, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t have anything else to give. Not pleasantries. Not reassurances. Definitely not friendship.
Closed starter for @littledaydreamers based on this:
"Excuse me! Are you… Mr Arslan?"
Aylin held out a small stack of mail, the afternoon sun catching the gold lettering on the return address of a legal firm. "I think I might have accidentally grabbed your mail. 4A, right? I’m so sorry! I was in a rush, trying to beat the heat… and honestly, these boxes are practically prehistoric. I'm Aylin, by the way. I live in 4B." She offered a tentative smile, one practiced for calming anxious brides and soothing stressed mothers-of-the-groom.
She took a closer look at the man in front of her. He was… imposing. Tall, broad shouldered but there was an intensity in his eyes, a haunted quality that sent a shiver of unexpected concern through her. He looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. He didn’t speak, didn't even acknowledge her. He just stared, his eyes fixed somewhere just past her shoulder.
“Look,” she continued, her voice softening. "I really am sorry. Here." She extended the mail again, pushing it gently towards him. “I'm sure you’re expecting these. Welcome to the building. I hope you… settle in okay.”
She hesitated, a sudden impulse tugging at her. Against every ounce of self-preservation, Aylin added, "If you need anything… anything at all… please don't hesitate to knock. I'm usually home, knee-deep in tulle and seating charts, but… I wouldn’t mind a break. Just let me know if there's something I can do." And then, she waited, holding her breath, wondering if she’d just made the biggest mistake of her life.