I was awoken by a loud bang.

I practically shot up in bed, the covers sliding down my body as I slowly scanned my room. I didn't see anything, but I shivered regardless, knowing I had heard a bang that definitely sounded close. I took a slow, deep breath and laid back down in bed before I heard a loud thump and a groan of pain.

I was swinging my legs out of bed, then, hands curling into fists as I pushed the blankets back onto my bed. I grabbed a sweater off the floor and tugged it on, pausing to pull my hair into a loose ponytail before making my way out of my room and into the living room. I flicked on the light and looked around, but I already knew the sound hadn't come from my apartment.

It came from Griffin's.

I wasn't that eager to talk to Griffin - not after what happened earlier that day, when he had stormed out of my apartment - but I needed to. I wasn't sure what the loud thump was, but if anything, the stream of profanities that could be heard through the wall gave me a good idea that Griffin had probably managed to get hurt. I couldn't just go back in my room and lay down in bed while Griffin cursed up a storm that could be heard through the walls.

I prayed that he would have a better attitude and pulled on a pair of shoes before walking out the door and pushing it shut, deciding I was fine leaving it unlocked. I walked the few feet over to Griffin's door and paused, briefly wondering if I was making a mistake, before shrugging and raping my knuckles against the door.

"Coming!" Griffin called quickly, voice sounding muffled and far away. I heard another bang and then a loud, "Shit!" before the door swung open to reveal Griffin Cutkosky.

The first thing I noticed was that Griffin was soaking wet. His dark blond hair was matted down to his forehead and temples, curling on the side, and his basketball shorts and black t-shirt and practically glued to his body. With each second that Griffin stood in front of me, water dripping down his body like a waterfall, a small puddle started to get made on the floor.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" I asked, and Griffin just wrapped his arms around himself and clenched his jaw as he shivered lightly, "What happened?"

It was pouring outside, that much was obvious. I just couldn't exactly figure out why Griffin was soaked - I hadn't seen him leave his apartment all night, and I hadn't heard him come up the stairs, either. As far as I knew, Griffin had just been inside his apartment the whole night, exactly like I had.

Instead of answering, Griffin stood back and held open his door wider, bright light from the living room engulfing us both, "Come in," he offered, rubbing his hands against the wood of the door, "if you want."

And I did.

I followed Griffin inside his apartment and gently shut the door behind me. Griffin said he'd be right back and took off towards his room, pulling off his dark shirt as he went. I knew I should have turned, but I couldn't help but stare at the muscles in his back as he tugged off his shirt. As quickly as I had gotten a glimpse, though, he had disappeared into his room.

I just sat down on the couch and leaned back, observing his apartment. I didn't really know Griffin that well, but his apartment kind of seemed just like him. It was an organized mess - books, movies, papers, and photo albums were stacked on top of each other against the wall. A shirt hung halfway over his TV, and an insane amount of pictures were on top of the entertainment center, so many that I couldn't find a single one to look at.

Griffin came out a few minutes later, dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt. He caught me staring at all the pictures and frowned, waving a hand to beckon me into the kitchen. I pushed myself off his couch and got up, taking a place at one of the bar-stools he had. Griffin leaned against the counter and fiddled with the coffee machine, body so tense I could see his muscles clenched through his shirt.

"I'm sorry," he said suddenly, turning his attention from the coffee pot to me. His blue eyes were wide, long lashes wet and almost framing his cheeks when he blinked, "for earlier, I mean. I didn't want you to worry about me, but I'm sorry for snapping at you."

I blinked in surprise. I had only been talking to Griffin for a few days, but it seemed like he apologized more in that time than anyone else ever had to me. And the truth was, he didn't really have to. I understood why he got angry earlier - we weren't exactly friends, and me asking him if he was okay might have felt like I was overstepping my boundaries.

So I just smiled and stood up, walking past Griffin to plug in the coffee pot, "Don't worry about it. But now I have an important question," Griffin's face fell, slim fingers twisting together, "Do you actually know how to work this? 'Cause I'm craving coffee right now."

Griffin grinned at me, his smile so innocent and pure that it was hard to believe that those thin lips were usually curved into a scowl, "I'm pretty sure it's broken because every time I try to use it, it just steams."

I laughed and pulled out the filter, riffling through Griffin's cabinets for coffee mate. Griffin pointed one finger at it and I nodded and pulled out the container, "Sounds like the work of someone who doesn't even know how to work their own coffee pot."

"It's broken."

"Watch and learn, Griff."

Griffin rolled his eyes at my nickname but took my previous seat in his bar-stool, waving his hands for me to go. Griffin's coffee machine wasn't broken, but it was ridiculously sensitive. As I was filling up the water, the whole thing started steaming and Griffin shouted out that he was right. I just rolled my eyes and stood back, giving it a few minutes for the steam to go away before clicking 'go'. In a matter of seconds, the pot was filling with coffee.

Griffin was pouting the whole time I poured our coffee cups until he snatched his out of my hand and practically filled the entire mug with sugar and milk. It was my turn to roll my eyes, then, and just sat down next to him, laughing when he almost chugged his entire mug in a matter of seconds.

There was a silence between us, and I wanted to ask Griffin why he had come into his apartment soaking wet, but the moment seemed behind us. It almost seemed like Griffin and I were just two friends enjoying coffee (in the middle of the night), but there was still evidence of why I came over. Griffin's hair was still wet and curling by his temples, he hadn't cleaned up the small puddle by the floor, and my body was still floored with curiosity to ask what happened.

"I forgot my key," Griffin said suddenly, hands wrapping around the mug in front of him. He breathed out, legs bouncing up and down, "I went out earlier and forgot my key, so I climbed the fire escape on the side of the building. Almost broke my window and slipped off the side of the building, but I got in."

I didn't know what to say to that. It seemed kind of normal - I constantly forgot my key when I went on, but I just went to my apartment manager and had him get inside my apartment for him. I had never thought about climbing up the fire escape on the side of the building to get into the apartment, but then again, I didn't think like Griffin. Griffin clearly preferred to risk his life on a rusty, old fire escape then ask for help.

"At least you're okay," was what I decided on, because that seemed like the safe answer. It was clear a lot of things set Griffin off, and I didn't want to accidentally murmur words that would have him slamming the door on me again.

Griffin shrugged and pushed his coffee mug between his hands, lips pursed together in a frown. I didn't know what to say; I was too busy thinking about how Griffin climbed an old, rusty fire escape in the middle of the night during a rainstorm as a way to get into his apartment. I wouldn't even walk on the fire escape during the day, let alone at night when it was raining.

I looked over at Griffin, the dim lights around us illuminating him against the dark shadows of the rest of his apartment. He was all sharp cheekbones, messy hair, and bright blue eyes - someone that you noticed right away. In that moment, though, that wasn't what I was noticing. 

Griffin's lips had curved up into a small smile as he pushed the mug back and forth, but his blue eyes were deep, a certain sadness inside of them. Although Griffin didn't seem to be nervous, he was pushing the mug back and forth and he kept tapping his feet against the bottom of the bar-stool. His face screamed calm and composed, but the little ticks about him screamed something else - anxious, maybe?

Griffin lifted his head and I dropped my gaze instantly, only looking up when Griffin stood up and grabbed my empty mug. I watched as we silently padded across the kitchen and put the mugs in the sink before turning around and leaning against the counter, a small smile on his face. Griffin's hands were clasped in front of him, and I couldn't help but wait for him to say something.

"Thanks," Griffin said, suddenly pushing himself off the wall and towards the door. I got the hint and stood up, trailing behind him, "Just thanks for coming over to check on me. It means a lot, Emmy."

I stepped over the small puddle by the door and sent Griffin a sincere smile, because the smile on his face was so genuine it was impossible not to reciprocate it, "Of course," I said, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder and then abruptly dropping my hand.

"Goodnight!" Griffin called, shooting me once last grin before disappearing back inside his apartment and quietly closing the door behind him.

I didn't know much about my neighbor, but it was in that moment I decided something about him.

Griffin Cutkosky was a complete contradiction; something so confusing that hours of analyzing and talking to him would barely even scratch the surface. 

</ This story is actually becoming one of my favorites to write xD please let me know your thoughts and vote! thank you so much, love you all :-) btw, thoughts on griffin? emmy?