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Her doorbell rings and Leah is certain she knows who waits on the other side of the door.
Today, she only got one package and it’s for the family that lives on the floor above her. They often order from a company that advertises their wooden toys on their boxes and today is no different.
Leah’s met both of the parents and while she first thought the overly friendly blonde woman would be the one ordering all those toys for the little boy with her, it’s just so much more fun to imagine the small woman, who seems much more distant and cold to Leah but is so sweet with their child, being the one who orders all of these toys.
She knows the parents’ names from the packages of course and when she learns that the boy’s name is Milo, she makes it a point to always address him when he shyly asks for the package, one of his moms always behind him, mouthing a quick “Thank you!”.
“Hi there,” the blonde woman, Shelby, Leah reminds herself, greets with a smile.
“Hey,” Leah crouches down a bit to deliver the package to Milo, who holds the slip of paper the mailman left in their mailbox, “there you go, buddy. It’s a big one today!”
Milo smiles toothily at her and nods before quickly running up the stairs.
Shelby laughs, shaking her head as she fondly watches her son disappearing.
“Thanks Leah, have a good evening.”
“You too.”
A lot of her interactions with her neighbors have gone in a similar way since she’s moved into her new apartment.
The mailman and all the drivers for the different delivery services had figured out pretty soon that Leah works mostly from home and that they can leave the packages for her neighbors with her instead of taking them to their store or coming back the next day.
She figures it’s convenient for them, she lives on the second floor so they don’t have to carry the packages that far upstairs and since she works from home, it’s also easy for her neighbors to get their stuff.
So, quickly after moving in the becomes the unofficial package station of her building.
Leah doesn’t mind her new job. It’s not happening that often, maybe three times a week, and it doesn’t really inconvenience her. It actually gets her moving off her desk whenever her doorbell rings so maybe they are all doing her a favor by getting her to move a little more instead of just constantly hunching down in front of her laptop.
She also gets to know her neighbors a little better this way. She’s not really a social person but being at home most of the day gives her knowledge of the inner workings of her neighborhood more closely than she would if she’d work in an office every day.
During the first few weeks of living in the new building she learns that said family from upstairs leaves together around 8.30 am, Milo often making noice in the staircase, one of his mothers shushing him. That someone in the building next to hers always plays the same classical song at 8.54 am, probably an alarm. That the old lady whose apartment she can see from her desk always walks her dog after lunch.
So learning more about her neighbors face to face is a plus in her books. Makes her feel less stalker-esque and more just involved overall.
Besides the lesbian moms she mostly gets the packages for a guy with slicked back, blonde hair. It’s almost always hair products if the boxes are anything to go by.
He’s of course not as nice as Milo but after his first flirting attempt and her rejection he backs off and doesn’t even really try with lots of small-talk anymore. Which is only the bare minimum but it keeps their interactions nice and distant enough.
Sometimes she gets a one off package of someone else in the building who probably doesn’t order as much stuff as the others.
“Hi, I think they dropped a package off for me?” A girl - woman - her age asks when she opens the door. “For Jadmani, 4A?”
Leah hasn’t met the woman before even though she moved in about eight weeks ago at this point. It makes her curious, they must have completely opposing schedules or something to never even have run into each other in the hall. Maybe the woman is also new? She probably would’ve heard if someone had moved in though.
Her clothes look expensive, she probably makes a lot more money than Leah with her editing job. Leah wonders why she lives in this building since she looks like she could afford something more high-end. Upper East Side maybe.
She’s also hot. And she looks like she knows it.
She wears it well though. Not cocky, just self aware.
“Do you?”
“Huh?” Leah eloquently reacts. She realizes she must’ve taken a little too long to answer the question while essentially checking the woman in front of her out.
“Yeah, sorry.” She gets the package for the woman. “I got a little lost in my head.”
The woman quirks an eyebrow and smirks.
“So I made a good first impression, I’m gathering.” It’s not a question, more of a statement really. Leah finds herself nodding anyway while the woman is already halfway up the stairs.
Leah didn’t check for a first name on the package, so she just calls the woman 4A in her head. She doesn’t see her for a couple of days after that first interaction.
While 4A managed to leave a very good and lasting first impression, Leah is sure she certainly didn’t with her weird staring and general inability to just hand out a package to a neighbor she doesn’t know.
Usually she doesn’t really care what others - strangers - think about her, she’s pretty comfortable with herself but something about the the other woman intrigues Leah.
It’s not even only the fact that the woman is stunning, she definitely is and Leah wouldn’t deny that, but her confidence and general charisma is what draws Leah to her more than anything.
Leah shakes her head and laughs at herself, leave it to her to crush on someone she has interacted with exactly once.
She gets a chance to re-do her impression not even a week later when she gets another package for 4A. This time Leah actually checks the package for a first name, Fatin.
Her dinner is cooking on the stove when the doorbell finally rings, it has to be 4A— Fatin, hair gel guy already picked up his package so Fatin’s is the only one left for the day.
She makes her way over to the door and she guessed right, Fatin is in front of it.
On her phone.
Fatin just holds up the slip of paper that states her package is at Leah’s apartment. When Leah holds out the package to her, she rolls her eyes and mouths “Moms” to Leah with a gesture to her phone.
Fatin takes the package and smiles at Leah in thanks. Leah looks after the retreating figure. That surely wasn’t a chance for her to re-do her first impression.
Her third interaction with Fatin catches Leah off guard.
It’s a Friday evening, she goes out for dinner with Rachel and ends up staying a little longer than she usually would have. Rachel just got a new job and they celebrate that with some drinks.
On her way from the subway to her building it starts raining and Leah decides to run the last bit. Halfway down her block she starts to rummage through her bag to get her keys out. They get stuck somewhere and frustratedly huffs, it’s definitely not how she envisioned the night to end.
“Hurry up, girl, I’ve got the door!” She hears when she reaches the steps to her building. She looks up and true to her word Fatin is standing in the doorway, holding it for her.
She looks like she also just got home from an evening out. Fatin’s dressed even more glamorous than her usual already pretty elegant attire, Leah wonders to herself where she might’ve been.
She suddenly feels very underdressed in her summer dress and cardigan. Even more so now that she’s soaked from the rain.
“Thanks!” Leah tries to catch her breath. She truly isn’t the fittest person out there but doesn’t want to pant too deeply in front of Fatin.
“I couldn’t get my keys out and I’m already soaked. Stupid rain, I didn’t bring an umbrella cause it wasn’t supposed to rain but now I’m all wet. It’s never like this in California. I guess I could’ve just stopped to get them out since it doesn’t really matter if I get anymore wet, you know— “
Fatin looks at her amusedly.
“I’m rambling, aren’t I?” Leah sheepishly asks, way to not make an idiot of herself.
“Just a little bit.” Fatin winks. “Whenever girls use the word ‘wet’ around me this often, it’s usually in a different context.”
Leah just gapes at the other woman. She can feel the blush keeping up her neck. Thank god she just ran half a mile and can attribute her red face to that.
It does register with her that Fatin at least also sleeps with women, good to know.
“But the reaction is always quite similar to yours, all open mouthed— some are more on the screaming side though.” Fatin cackles and winks again.
The audacity this woman has.
“Will you stop?” Leah whisper-yells and has to stop herself from hitting Fatin on the shoulder. She reminds herself that they aren’t actually friends, they don’t even really know each other.
“It’s the middle of the night, what if Mrs. Cooper hears you? We’re literally right in front of her door.” She starts walking up the stairs, trying to get her racing heart and blushing face under control.
“Don’t pretend like you don’t like it!” Fatin says as she follows Leah up the stairs.
Leah finally gets her keys out of her bag and starts to unlock her door. She turns around.
“Sweet dreams, Miss Rilke.” Fatin sing-songs and leaves with another wink.
Leah makes her way inside her apartment, closing the door behind her. She slumps against the door, taking deep breaths.
That was… something.
“So is this a thing now?” Leah asks Fatin a couple of days later when she picks up yet another package at her door.
“Babe, take me out to dinner first. Already calling us a ‘thing’.” Fatin jokingly shakes her head.
Leah feels herself blushing again. She knows she does that a lot in the few interactions she’s had with Fatin so far. Just about everything Fatin says or does will cause her to blush.
It’s infuriating really.
She hasn’t gathered yet if Fatin smirks when she notices her blush because she likes that she can get a reaction out of Leah or if she smirks because she’s silently making fun of her.
While she feels like an open book to Fatin, Fatin is much harder to read.
“No— “ Leah splutters, “I meant you getting your packages here— it’s new. Like I get the packages for the Shalifoes and for that blonde guy all the time, you being a regular as well is new, is what I mean.”
“I used to just order stuff to my work-place because I don’t have the time to pick stuff up somewhere, but this is much easier.” Fatin explains.
“Shelby told me that you always hold onto their packages so I figured one more wouldn’t hurt?” For the first time, Leah thinks she sees something close to apprehension on Fatin’s usually self-assured and confident face.
It’s interesting to see the shift happening right in front of her. Fatin’s not only bravado after all.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t ask, I totally just assumed.” Fatin smiles somewhat sheepishly.
“Fatin, it’s okay, really. I’m here anyway. What’s one more package?” Leah reassures the other woman.
“So you know my name? I don’t recall introducing myself.”
And just like that, Fatin has the upper hand again. Accompanied by a big grin on her face and a mischievous glint in her eyes. Leah feels like she’s getting whiplash from her conversations with Fatin one of these days.
“No, I just— “ Once again, she struggles for words. She takes a deep, grounding breath.
“It’s literally right on the package you know?” She mentally gives herself a pat on the back, that sounded way more confident than she feels. Call that a success.
Fatin raises her eyebrows. Maybe Leah managed to actually surprise her somewhat with her small surge of confidence. Wherever that came from, Leah just hopes there is more.
“And what’s your name then? Because the slip of paper only says Rilke and 2B.” She waves said piece of paper in the air as if to underline her point.
“It’s Leah.”
It turns out Fatin actually orders things quite frequently. She tells Leah that she used to carry her packages from her work-place in the subway back home which obviously was a pain in the ass.
They see each other probably once a week now and Leah gets better at interacting with Fatin.
At least she thinks she does. She doesn’t blush as often, so there’s that.
Their conversations aren’t very substantial or groundbreaking - or long - but Leah thinks they slowly learn things about each other as they both drop little facts about their days and themselves. Fatin hates her boss for example, thinks he’s a pretentious asshole. She has two brothers and sometimes mentions her mom but never her dad.
Leah would call them good acquaintances now. Maybe they’re even on their way to become friends?
One time, she gets a package for Fatin on a Friday around noon but has to leave shortly afterwards to join Rachel and Nora at their parents’ weekend house in the Hamptons for the weekend. She figures Fatin can wait a couple of days, it’s not a big deal.
Apparently it is a big deal.
On Tuesday in the late afternoon, soon after she gets back, her doorbell rings excessively.
Leah rushes to the door, opening it with a little too much force, “Jesus, where’s the fire?”
“So you do still exist!” Fatin exclaims with wide eyes.
“What?” Fatin’s demeanor catches Leah off-guard.
“You still exists, you have a package for me and haven’t answered your door for the last couple of days.” Fatin explains.
“Yeah, I was away for the weekend.” Leah shrugs and moves to get Fatin’s package.
“Well, you could have said so.” Fatin puts the package in the bag on her shoulder and crosses her arms.
“Jeez, Fatin, I didn’t know your package was this important.” Leah answers a little defensive, who does Fatin thinks she is? “Next time I go away for the weekend I’ll leave a letter in your mailbox, alright? Or would you rather have me hand in a request for vacation beforehand, like a good employee?”
“What? No,” Fatin shakes her head, “I don’t care about the package, I was just wondering where you were. Like you dropped off the face of earth all of a sudden, it was strange.”
“Fatin, you do know I have a life outside of this apartment, don’t you?” Leah can’t help but grin now. While Fatin has a weird way of showing it, she did worry about Leah over the weekend. She stores that information to squeal about it later.
“I mean, obviously.” Fatin shrugs and tries to find her footing in the conversation again, she raises her chin. “A message would’ve still been nice.”
With that she thrusts her phone in Leah’s direction.
“Put your number in.”
“Is that an order?” Leah can’t help but ask, she immensely enjoys seeing Fatin a little flustered.
“Do you like being ordered around?”
And just like that Leah’s lost the upper hand she’s had merely a second ago and blushes.
Fatin’s by now signature smirk makes its first appearance of the day.
They don’t start texting immediately afterwards. Leah would like to start a conversation with Fatin, but doesn’t know how. She doesn’t get another package for her all week so it’s not like she has an actual reason to text Fatin.
She’s glad no one can see how often she sits in her apartment, phone in hand, the empty message thread with Fatin open, trying to come up with something she could say. It’s embarrassing.
Thankfully Rachel hasn’t caught on to Leah’s crush on her neighbor yet, she would never hear the end of it.
It’s Sunday evening when her phone chimes with a text from Fatin, soon followed by a string of messages.
Fatin, 4A: Just a heads up
Fatin, 4A: Ordered some new shelves
Fatin, 4A: That shit’s probably gonna be heavy and a little bigger than usually
Fatin, 4A: It’s coming on Wednesday
Leah struggles to find a good response. She wants to say something witty, now that she doesn’t have to come up with something on the spot but can actually think about how to respond, she wants to come across better than she often does in their face-to-face interactions.
It’s hard though. She can’t think of anything that’s not just a confirmation.
Leah: Yes, boss!
As soon as she hits ‘send’ she regrets the text and immediately follows it up with an explanation.
Leah: Cause you know, you like to order me around.
Fatin answers with the devil emoji and Leah decides to count that as a win for now.
As expected the package arrives on Wednesday. It is not as big as Leah thought it would be but it is very heavy. The UPS guy wheezes as he carries it upstairs and hauls the package inside her apartment.
It sits a little in the way but Leah just lets it be for now. Fatin will come and pick it up later anyway.
Leah: I’ve got a package for you!
Fatin, 4A: What I’m hearing is, you’re packing?
Fatin, 4A: All for me?
Leah only dignifies that with the poop-emoji.
It’ a little earlier than she expected when her doorbell rings. Often, Fatin doesn’t get home before 8pm, today must be an exception.
“So, I’ve heard you’ve got a nice, big package for me?” Fatin grins at her when she opens the door.
Leah prides herself in not even awarding the innuendo with a blush anymore. Fatin doesn’t need to know that she did indeed blush earlier after the text message. She only rolls her eyes and steps aside.
“It’s not that big but it’s pretty heavy. You probably won’t be able to lift it.” She gestures behind her to the package.
“I’m stronger than I look.” Fatin dismisses and moves to pick the package up.
Leah watches with raised eyebrows as Fatin tries to lift the package. She tries not to stare too openly at Fatin's flexing arm-muscles. Fatin makes the task very hard for her though.
She tries a few different angels, she even sets her bag aside. Of course, it doesn’t work.
“Could you give me a hand maybe?” Fatin is currently crouching next to the package, still trying to figure out what’s the best way to lift it.
Leah raises her eyebrows even further and gestures for Fatin to go on.
Fatin stares blankly at her, Leah can practically see the gears turning in her head.
“Please?”
“There you go, was that so hard?” She toothily grins at Fatin who only rolls her eyes at her.
In their joined effort, they are actually able to move the package off the ground. It’s still pretty heavy and they can only carry it one flight of stairs at a time but with those breaks in between they make it to Fatin’s apartment faster than she expected.
They set it down with a huff in front of Fatin’s door.
Leah is surprised by the apartment when they make it inside. It’s much bigger than her own. Then again, she guesses all apartments on her side of the building are the same and the apartment across the hall on each floor is bigger, just like Fatin’s. After all, the Shalifoes live right beneath Fatin with three people in the apartment, they definitely need more space than Leah.
The apartment is light and has a modern touch to it but still feels lived in and not cold like one would maybe expect from a more modern style. It’s not as cluttered as her own but Fatin also doesn’t seem to be the neat-freak Leah’s made her out to be in her head.
She turns to Fatin who’s already looking at her.
“Thanks for the help. Listen, do you maybe want to stay for dinner and some wine? As a way for me to thank you?”
Leah thinks about the vegetables she’d started chopping before Fatin arrived at her apartment, now laying half-chopped in her kitchen. She's definitely not about to lose the chance to hang out with Fatin, she can just put them away later and use them tomorrow.
“That would be great, thanks.” She smiles at Fatin and further enters the apartment.
“Make yourself at home, I’m not gonna pretend that I’m a decent cook and just order some pizza. Is just plain cheese okay with you?”
After Leah's nod, Fatin turns to what Leah assumes is the kitchen to order their food.
Leah enters the living room and her eyes are automatically drawn to the instrument in the corner. It’s some sort of string instrument, she doesn’t know what exactly it is. Not a guitar but that’s as far as her knowledge goes. It sits on a stand specifically made for it.
She didn’t know Fatin played an instrument, she always just assumed Fatin was a business woman with little time for hobbies. Her clothes and demeanor might’ve made Leah jump to conclusions too soon though.
“Ah, I see you’ve found my cello.” Fatin startles her out of her thoughts.
“A cello… it’s awesome that you play. I’ve never had the patience to learn an instrument.”
“Thanks.” Fatin smiles.
“Do you find enough time to play, still? With work and just life in general? I tend to neglect the nicer things in life when work gets busy.” Leah stops herself before she can ramble on for too long.
“The cello is my job, I guess that hasn’t come up? I’m a Cellist for the New York Philharmonic.”
Fatin says that very casually as she hands Leah a glass of white wine. As if it isn’t immensely impressive that she’s talented enough to play an instrument and make a living with it.
She doesn’t even try to pretend that she knows anything about the instrument or music - apart from listening. In the past, she often caught herself pretending to know a band or something about a topic that a person she was interested in brought up. She always wanted to relate to the person in the moment. She often found herself looking said band or topic up later on to actually learn something for the next conversation.
This time though, she doesn’t pretend to know anything. Fatin doesn’t give her the feeling that she needs to fall back into those old habits.
Leah asks genuine questions and Fatin doesn’t seem to mind to tell her about her journey with the cello. She explains how playing in an orchestra works and how she sometimes travels to give a solo guest performance somewhere else.
So far, Fatin has been mostly this hot and confident but unreachable person to Leah, this new side draws her in even more. Fatin with all her innuendos plays classical music for a living, who would’ve thought.
Their pizza arrives and they make easy conversation while the eat. They discover that they grew up pretty close to each other, on opposite sides of the bay and both made their way to New York City for college and then decided to stay.
Leah feels more comfortable with Fatin than she expected. It’s easy to just talk to her, she’s not a mess all the time now that they’re talking for longer and their whole interaction isn’t set around one of Fatin’s crude comments.
They actually have a lot in common and find themselves just talking for a couple of hours after they’ve finished their dinner.
It’s past Leah’s usual bedtime when she reluctantly decides to make her way back to her apartment.
“I really gotta go, I have an early day tomorrow and it’s getting kinda late.”
Fatin’s face drops a little bit, she catches herself doing it, but Leah still still sees the slight frown when she announces her departure.
“Right, I guess it is pretty late. I’m sorry I kept you up for so long.” Fatin smiles at her, sort of bashfully if Leah reads the expression on her face right.
Neither of them make a move to get off the couch they're sitting on.
Leah feels a little awkward again all of a sudden. She keeps asking herself if she should hug Fatin goodbye as she would do with her other friends after they hung out. But maybe Fatin isn’t a hugger. Or didn’t enjoy the evening as much as Leah did and just wants to get it over and done with.
Leah scratches that thought, Fatin clearly enjoyed their evening, the conversation wouldn’t have flowed as easily as it did if only one of them was into it. She’s still so hard to read for Leah though.
Her crush on the other woman is definitely also not helping, her mind is constantly torn between squealing at every little thing Fatin does or says and overanalyzing and questioning those things.
She shakes herself out of her thoughts when she feels a hand on her knee. She looks down, a little surprised by Fatin’s action.
When she looks up again, whatever she wanted to say next gets stuck in her throat. Fatin is suddenly much closer to her than she remembers her being a few seconds ago. She can see some slight doubt flicker in Fatin’s eyes. Leah softly smiles and watches what little doubt there was disappear from the other woman’s face.
She sees Fatin’s eyes drop to her lips before they dart up again to look into her own eyes.
She feels her heart beating faster and faster, her senses close in on Fatin alone.
“May I?” Fatin asks as breathlessly as Leah feels.
Leah doesn’t manage to form actual words in response to Fatin’s question. She only nods and leans in further to double down on her non-verbal answer.
Fatin’s hand moves from her leg up to her waist, as she raises her own to cup Fatin’s cheek.
And then Fatin is kissing her. Her lips are soft and Leah can still faintly taste the white wine they drank throughout the evening. Warmth spreads through her whole body right up to her fingertips.
She pulls Fatin closer, opening her lips a little to deepen the kiss. She feels Fatin’s hands on her waist, squeezing her, roaming around.
It’s all-consuming, almost overwhelming. Kissing Fatin feels good. It feels right and Leah doesn’t want to stop.
They do have to slow down to catch their breaths.
“Do you want to go out with me? On a date?” Fatin soflty asks in the space between their mouths, an almost shy smile on her lips. It’s very different from the confident smirk she had worn during most of their conversations.
Leah can’t contain herself and snorts a little.
“What makes you think you even have to ask? I would love to.”