The smell of smoke and curiosity

~Taking the first step~

Dante still towering over me, I think he realized he was too close for comfort within that second of silence after our talk, as he took a step back, a sudden scratch of his head and spoke "erm anyways I believe you were going somewhere so thank you for allowing me to have my say, I'll take my leave now" he flipped so I could only see his beautifully broad back and headed for my door. "Wait" I exclaimed tugging at the back of his plain black T-shirt like a lost puppy. My words slipped out of my mouth without thinking, all I knew was that I didn't want him to leave just yet.

Within a split second, he had turned around and was now looking me up and down with the same confused look on his face as I. This could be an opportunity I thought. "I was about to get a bottle of wine to drink, do you care to join me for a glass or two?" Removing my hand off his top I stood and awaited a reply. "I'm not so sure that's a good id-" I smiled and interrupted him fidgeting with my hair to avoid the fact I had just tugged at him "it could be a good opportunity to get to know each other, we are neighbour's after all" I shrugged along with what I said in hopes he takes what I said lightly.

Rubbing his chin in deep thought he smirked "hmm, I think you'd need more than one bottle to get to know me" I brushed past him and opened my door with a great grin on my face as I looked back at him, door now letting in a cold breeze "Well then two bottles it is" aiming my arm out the door allowing him to go first, in which he did. My thoughts went blank and only one thing stood in my mind, where does he go on a night and why isn't he going tonight?

After collecting two bottles as we agreed on and arriving back at mine, we sat down, both beside each other on my small sofa, both in anxious thoughts for a good five minutes that felt like an eternity. This is not going well, I need to break this silence. He unwrapped the metal guarding the first bottle and popped it open not needing permission, as he could read the room. The strong aroma of berries filled the air while I passed him our glasses to fill as much as he pleased.

Clutching at my now full glass of wine I chugged down a big gulp in hopes it gives me courage. "So what do you do for work?" It was a simple question that I already knew the answer to thanks to the landlord, but it was my poor attempt to chip away at the ice. Swigging again at my wine almost scared at what he may say to my little words, but also kind of thrilled to see if he lies, because if he does that would only make me want to invest more.

His hands tightened at his glass slightly, announcing that he took my words into account. I had never noticed his hands properly, till now. They are big, pale things, not too skinny with fingernails longer than mine, but not unclean they are almost too clean. Where when I have seen them through a tiny crack in my curtains as I stalked his movements, they were normally a bit more battered up. I was questioning my judgment if I had seen them correctly beforehand or if it was simply the trick of the light. Interrupting my racing thoughts he turned to me "I don't so much work but art is somewhat of a hobby and I sell what I create online for money, what about you?" snapping back to reality and thinking back to when I researched him and everything was a miss, he probably has a different name on his art like me for my books which makes sense now. "You'll have to show me your work sometime I'd love to see it" I smiled as I spoke, this wine is stronger than I thought it may get the best of me.

Pouring another glass in both of our cups realizing we are now both on the same level. "My form of art is in my writing as I write books for a hobby and career. You know all this time I thought you must have had a night shift job as I always hear you go out during the late hours, I wouldn't have thought of you an artist" sneakily dropping that into the conversation in hopes to drag some form of information from him and him not to notice.

He adjusted in his seat. He must have caught on to what I said as he was already pouring a third glass and now ahead of me in the drinking, I hadn't even noticed him drink the second one. "Oh that's pretty cool, what type of stories do you write about? Also, I do apologize if I have disturbed you leaving at that time. I'm trying to cut back on going out as often but I just need breaks during my art and the night is the best time for it, it's peaceful" he says it's peaceful but the way he's looking down at my floor swirling the red wine anxiously says it's not.

I downed my half-full glass in one and thought for a moment. He said trying to cut back on it like it was an addiction, he goes out every night and returns in a state, it still doesn't add up to me. I could be overthinking this or I need to trust my gut feeling, and what my gut is telling me is that he's lying about something in his words, but I do admit he's got them well-rehearsed.