AllFreeNovel
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I’d thrown on a pair of sweatpants but hadn’t found a T-shirt.
“Yeah. Always laundry.” I rubbed the back of my neck.
“That would explain the noise.”
Shit. Shehadheard.
This fucking curse was going to ruin my life. With the number of noise complaints I’d gotten already, I’d probably need to start looking for a new place when I hadn’t even settled down in this one yet.
“I’m sorry.”
Sybil analyzed me, tilting her head. “You’re troubled. Something is wrong.” She got up and stepped to the railing, her eyes still fixed on me.
Did she know? Could the witch see my secret?
I narrowed my eyes at her, and she laughed, putting her palms up.
“I don’t read minds, chill. But even someone with no magic could detect the stressed aura around you.”
I relaxed a little. “It’s just life.”
“I’ve got a solution for that.”
“Let me guess, die?” I asked, arching a brow.
She laughed, the sound fitting in perfectly with the wind chimes she’d hung by the sliding doors. “That would work too, I guess. But I was thinking of something a little less drastic or permanent.”
She got up, her movement smooth like a cat, and sauntered over to a countertop. Unlike my balcony, which was completely barren save for a plastic chair left behind by the old owners, hers was fully decked out with patio furniture including a small outdoor kitchen. She also had some plants: a row of herbs growing in planters along the long side of the balcony where the awning didn’t block the sun, and two large pots of dark purple, nearly black, petunias overflowing their pedestals at each corner.
She picked up a bottle of wine and a black crystal glass. She held the bottle up to the light; it was half full. She poured some into the glass for herself before walking to the edge of the balcony. Leaning over the railing, she held the bottle out to me.
I hesitated.
“Come on. It’s heavy. I can’t hold it forever.”
I reached out and grabbed the bottle of pinot gris even though it was only three in the afternoon. At least it was past lunchtime.
“Wine and yoga?”
She shrugged. “My practice, my rules.”
I could get behind that. I pulled the plastic chair over and sat down next to the railing.
She held up her glass, I held up the bottle, and we toasted each other across the empty space between the balconies.
“Bottoms up,” I said, and took a big chug.
She was right. It helped. But maybe it was more the company and less the wine. It was lonely hiding in my apartment all day, doing all my work online, only seeing people through a screen.
“Soooo, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but you can always knock on my door if you need to vent.” Sybil took another sip. “I work from home.”
“So do I.”
She eyed me flatly. “Yeah. I know.”
Shit. Unlike the other neighbors, she’d probably been here every single time I’d lost control of my shift. I took another sip.
She plugged the music she’d been listening to into a small speaker, and rhythmic psytrance filled the air. “I’ve got this, which I usually listen to for yoga. Or synthpop, if you want something lighter. Industrial or aggrotech if you want darker. Metal too. The only thing I don’t have is top 40.”
