One 

Handsome Strangers and Attempted Murder

If someone asked Elio to describe his life, he would say that it was one ridiculous side-quest after another. He was kind, almost to a fault, and could’t really say no when people asked for help, even if they didn’t deserve it. If Elio was in a video game, he would be the NPC players went to if they needed something, like a magical Ancient Greek vase or a violin made from a rare wood. Either that, or Elio would be the comedic relief character that dies first. Elio had enough random trinkets to open up a shop and keep it continuously stocked without purchasing any new merchandise, and enough time on his hands to build up a collection of hobbies he’d abandoned. He also had enough odd acquaintances that he had to hide from them or they’d ask him to do something else. Elio often ended up hiding in his bedroom when someone knocked if he wasn’t expecting anyone, because he was too nice to say no if he answered it and needed something. 

Which was why Elio ignored the door the first time he heard it two hours ago, because no one was supposed to come over. He’d meant to check his phone, because people usually called before they came over, but he once again got distracted by a forgotten item that he’d rediscovered while cleaning. His room was a controlled chaos of trinkets and unfinished art projects, and whenever he had people over they commented on how messy it was. Which was why he had set out to make the chaos slightly more controlled — but ultimately ended up playing with his belongings instead. 

Elio’s goal that morning was to make it so he could see his floor, but he’d so far failed at that task. His mind jumped from thought to thought faster than a toddler’s, and his cleaning journey had made little progress. At the moment, he was emptying out one of his “doom bins”, which were basically bins he shoved anything and everything into so that they were out of sight. His brown hair, which had been in a neat man-bun when he’d started a number of hours earlier, was now falling in front of his face. Elio brushed it aside, and then gasped happily when he found a pastel blue butterfly clip at the bottom of one of the bins. He quickly used it to pin his hair back, even though the pony-tail he’d originally used was still on his wrist, and then went back to searching through the treasures in the bin. 

Some time later — it could’ve been three minutes or three hours, Elio didn’t know — there was a knock on the front door to his apartment. Elio perked his head up, resembling a puppy that heard the word treats, and ran towards the door. He expected to see his best friend, Marissa, but when he opened the door he was met with a tall, strange — and handsome, wow — man pointing a knife at him. The man had long black hair that fell across his face in a messy-but-sophisticated way, and flushed pale skin. His cheekbones were sharper than the knife he was holding. 

Right, the knife. What. The. Fuck. 

“Is this some sort of kink?” were the first words out of Elio’s mouth once his brain caught up to what he was seeing. The handsome man with the big knife looked purely flabbergasted. “Wait, are you here to kill me? Is this going to be one of those horror stories on the news? ‘Gay Man Killed by Kink’?” Elio rambled on, not once considering the fact that he might actually be in danger. 

The man opened his mouth to speak, but Elio beat him to it. “Wait, if you’re here to kill me, why’d you knock?” The stranger brought his palm to his forehead and sighed miserably, about to explain, but Elio started talking again. “Ya know, if you’re a murderer, you’re really bad at it. Like, these doors are paper-thin, you could’ve easily broke through it. Why didn’t yo–?”

 “I’m not here to kill you,” he interrupted with a deep, gravely voice. Elio wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was attracted to it. 

“Well, then why are you here? And what’s with the knife?” the confused boy asked. 

“I’m your new neighbor. We share a wall. Your music is very, very loud, and I was trying to concentrate. I just wanted you to turn down the music,” the man, who was apparently his neighbor, responded defeatedly. He looked like he was two seconds away from using the knife on himself.

Elio paused. “Oh, sorry… I was cleaning. I’ll turn it down.” Elio glanced down shyly, aware that he’d just made the worst first impression of his life. Then, a thought occurred to him. “That doesn’t explain the knife, though.” 

His new neighbor looked down at the knife in his hands as if he didn’t know it was there. “Oh, I was cutting up some chicken for lunch.” 

Elio nodded, the situation now making much more sense. The man had just knocked on Elio’s door to ask him about the music, and Elio went and accused him of trying to murder and/or have sex with him. Then Elio realized just how bad that looked, and his cheeks turned tomato red.

“Sorry for accusing you of wanting to murder me…” he mumbled sheepishly. 

Elio’s neighbor sighed once again. “It’s fine, just keep it down, yeah?” and then he was gone, disappearing into his own apartment and probably regretting ever leaving it. 

Elio groaned loudly and bonked his head against the door frame. Of course, that had to be when Marissa showed up, looking exquisite with her curly brown hair and pink dress. How dare she; Elio looked like he crawled out of a trash bin, and she looked like an angel. 

“Hey, I know that look. What happened?” Marissa questioned once she got closer.  “Also, was that your neighbor, cause he’s really hot.”

Elio groaned even louder. “I know!” 

“Wanna talk about it over lunch? I brought Chinese food,” his best friend replied. 

Elio let out a grumble that sounded like ‘yes’ and snatched the to-go bag out of her hands. 

“So let me get this straight…” Marissa said around a mouthful of lo mein 30 minutes later. “You have a hot new neighbor and your first words to him were ‘is this a kink’?” She laughed loudly. 

“I know, I blew it. Now leave me alone,” Elio pouted. Marissa let out a cackle. 

“I’m not surprised that that was your reaction, honestly,” Marissa brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and shuffled the lo mein around her plate. “You have the worst luck.”

Elio gave her a deadpan look. “You’re telling me.” 

His best friend grabbed the ponytail from her wrist and used it to tie her hair back. The action reminded the boy of the butterfly hair clip in his hair. 

“Oh! I found so many new trinkets while cleaning today! Look at my hair!” He turned his head to show her the clip. “And there was this little ceramic frog, and…” 

Marissa ooed and awed at the appropriate times as he continued to talk about the treacherous journey that was cleaning his bedroom.

“Did you actually clean anything?” the girl couldn’t help but ask. Elio’s smile quickly turned into a frown, and he stopped talking all together. 

“Shit, I didn’t mean it like that, I swear!” Marissa amended, but Elio had already shut down. 

“It’s okay. I’m… I’m gonna go get more rice…” Elio quickly got up from the couch and retreated to the kitchen, cursing his stupid emotions.