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Ambrosius hadn’t technically moved out of his apartment yet, but he also didn’t really live there anymore. When Ballister had asked him to come live in the tower with him and Nimona, he’d said yes in a heartbeat, and moved in the same day with only the essentials. He wasn’t attached to much in his apartment, so it was easy to leave. What that meant though was that he still had a fully furnished apartment in the city, and while he’d stopped at it once or twice to grab something he’d, it was still just sat there waiting to be used.
Deciding to put it on the market wasn’t a hard decision, though he’d momentarily considered keeping it in case they ever wanted to move back into the city. Eventually, though, he realized that if they ever did want to move back, they could just get a new place. His apartment was big, but it probably wasn’t enough to house the three of them comfortably, and Nimona would probably detest having to live somewhere so polished and ornate anyway. So on the market it went.
That meant, though, that Ambrosius had to go clear out the rest of his stuff—or at least, the things that hadn’t come with the apartment, as most of the furniture had. Ballister had offered to join him, but it was really only a couple boxes worth of things at most, and all he needed to do was put it all out in the living room for a mover to bring over in the morning. It’d be a couple hours at most, he figured, and so Ballister’s help wasn’t necessary.
Ambrosius stepped up to the door, fishing his key out of his pocket and opening it up. It still smelled of cleaner and the scented candle he’d burned the last time he was here—how the scent still lasted was confusing, to say the least, but he figured it wasn’t important. It was certainly different from the woodsy, rusty smell of the tower, but not any better or worse. Ambrosius absently wondered how Nimona would feel about him burning a scented candle every once in a while as he settled on the floor.
He’d just finished folding up all the cardboard boxes he’d brought and started packing things from the living room away when a breeze startled him slightly. He didn’t remember leaving a window open, especially with how cold it had been recently he didn’t know why he even would’ve felt the need to. It must’ve just been a lapse of judgement, or he’d moved on autopilot and didn’t notice until now.
Ambrosius set a framed picture of him and Ballister in the box, standing up to go close the window. He’d been about to close and lock it when his eyes caught on the broken latch. One that had pretty obviously been broken from the outside.
Someone had been in his apartment.
Ambrosius’s blood ran cold as he stumbled away from the window. What if they were still here? What if they were waiting for him? It didn’t seem like they’d stolen anything—not anything large or noticeable, at least. But then what were they here for?
Ambrosius suddenly wished, for possibly the first time ever, that he kept his sword on his person even when he wasn’t working. He wished that there was something in this apartment that he could defend himself with, but all he really had that was hefty enough to do damage were books and a couple frying pans, and both were out of his immediate reach.
He began moving slowly away from the window, focusing much more on the minute details of his apartment than he had before. It felt like every object even an inch out of place could be a clue, or that every corner or closed door could be hiding someone behind it. Ambrosius’s heart was racing a hundred miles a minute, and only seemed to get faster and faster as he moved further into the apartment. It was too quiet, and somehow too loud at the same time. Every small, insignificant noise stopped him in his tracks, leaving him holding his breath in anticipation of…something.
He grabbed a blessedly empty vase off of a side table in the hallway, gripping it with two hands like a stubby baseball bat. He glanced into every room, terrified of coming face to face with the intruder, but never finding anything. The anticipation somehow made it worse.
Eventually, at the end of the hall, he reached his bedroom. His hand landed on the doorknob and he had to take a second to steady his breathing before opening the door. It swung open, and his eyes immediately darted around the space, eventually landing on a bouquet of flowers sitting in the middle of his bed.
He felt his heart stutter in his chest as he approached the bed, eyeing the flowers like they might somehow explode and kill him. The bouquet looked wilted, clearly having been here for a while, which only slightly dissuaded his fears about the intruder still being in the apartment. Even still, he could clearly make out tulips, asters, and dahlias.
His favorites, he noted with a shudder.
There was a small note tied around the stems, and he lifted it carefully, just enough that it was readable.
I bought you flowers! I hope you don’t mind me sneaking in to give them to you, I wanted it to be a surprise. I hope you like them. I look forward to seeing you again. ~ Your Secret Admirer.
Ambrosius had never run faster.
He tripped over himself as he made it to the end of the hallway, crashing to the floor of the living room and not even bothering to get up, reaching to grab his phone from where he’d left it on the table. He fumbled, trying to get it to open as he backed himself up against the nearest wall. His hands shook as he tapped on the call icon beside Ballister’s name, his chest burning as his breaths got shallower.
“Hey, love, everything alright?”
“Bal.” He breathed, and he could practically hear the immediate concern in Ballister’s silence. “Bal, please tell me you left flowers at my apartment.”
“No? Why would I leave flowers, you’re never there.” Ambrosius’s heart sank even further, burying itself deep inside his gut. He couldn’t breathe. “Ambrosius, did something happen?”
Ambrosius took a steadying breath, eyes still searching the room even though he knew there was probably no one hear. Paranoia ate away at the edges of his consciousness. “Bal, someone broke into my apartment.”
“What?” Ballister’s voice was snappy, shocked. “What do you mean? Ambrosius?”
“Someone was in my apartment.” He repeated, breathing so fast he could hardly get the words out.. “They broke in through the window and…and left flowers on my bed.”
“Okay, okay, Ambrosius I’m going to come get you, okay?” Ballister said. “Are they still there?”
“I don’t know.” He gasped. “I don’t think so?”
“Okay, darling, I need you to breathe.” Ballister said. “Can you do that for me?”
Ambrosius nodded instead of saying anything, too caught up to recognize that Ballister couldn’t see him. He held a hand to his aching chest, trying to feel each breath as it came and went. It seemed like every time he was close to getting back to even breathing, something reminded him of the intruder and he was back to square one. Vaguely, he could hear Ballister talking—giving reassurances and counting breaths—but it was hard to focus on anything but the terrifying reality wrapping around him.
It took almost 15 minutes for Ballister to arrive, the trip made conveniently shorter by the fact that he was in the city and not at the tower when Ambrosius called, and by the time he did Ambrosius had only just gotten his breathing under control. Ballister practically broke the door down in his haste to get into the apartment, but mellowed out as soon as he got inside, turning off his phone and putting it in his pocket. Ambrosius lunged at him before he could even fully sit down, tackling him in a hug.
Ballister held him tight, keeping him close and breathing steadily. Ambrosius tucked his head against Ballister’s chest, listening to his heartbeat thud soft but strong beneath his skin.
“Are you okay?” Ballister asked after a few minutes, and Ambrosius just shook his head. “Do you want to go home?”
Ambrosius hesitated. “I still have to pack.”
“I can finish it up for you.”
“What if they come back?” Ambrosius asked, his throat seizing.
“I’ll bring Nimona with me.” Ballister promised. “You know she wouldn’t let anyone past her.”
Ambrosius nodded slowly. “Okay.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Ambrosius said, pulling away. “I want to go home.”
—
Ambrosius sat at the kitchen table, leg bouncing as he iced the bruise he’d gotten from falling in his haste to get out of his bedroom. Ballister and Nimona were at his apartment finishing up the packing, and Ambrosius felt antsy just thinking about it. Ballister had promised that none of them would have to go there ever again after today, but all that did was send Ambrosius’s head spinning with a host of new problems.
Like: what if they realized he’d moved, found out where he lived now and broke into the tower? What if they tried to confront him if he was out in public? What if they freaked out about the change and hurt him? Or, go forbid, hurt Bal? What if he met them one day and never even knew that they were the person who’d broken into his apartment? What if it was someone he already knew or was close with?
He looked up from the table at the sound of the door opening and sprung up before stilling. What if it wasn’t Ballister and Nimona? What if it was the intruder? What if they’d followed him and just taken a while to scout out the location before coming in?
He crept towards the door to the kitchen, peering out and feeling himself deflate in relief at the sight of Ballister shedding his coat and Nimona transforming into a cat to sprawl out on the couch. He walked over to Ballister, who seemed to notice how anxious he was and leaned in to give him a gentle kiss on the forehead.
“I hate this.” Ambrosius whispered, and Ballister raised an eyebrow, silently asking him to elaborate. “I can’t stop thinking about everything that could go wrong. I mean, who knows how crazy this person could be? What if they do something worse than just break in again or leave something? What if they hurt someone?”
“Ambrosius.” Ballister frowned.
“My mom told me she had a couple stalkers when she was younger, but she never told me how terrifying it was.” Ambrosius said after a few seconds, and Ballister pulled him close. “No one ever warned me how obsessive people could get.”
“Is there anything I can do?” He asked softly.
“I don’t know.” Ambrosius mumbled. “I guess…I don’t want you to be alone if you can help it, in case they try to go after you. And make sure you always have your phone on you so I can call you.”
“Done and done.” Ballister said. “And I expect you’ll do the same.”
Ambrosius nodded. “I’ll see if I can get some knights to act as bodyguards for if I go out, and I’ll try to avoid spending too much time in the city.”
“That’s a good idea.” Ballister said, nodding. “Are you going to report what happened?”
“I guess I probably should, right?” Ambrosius said, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “What if they don’t find them?”
“Then we’ll just try and be as safe as possible until they do.” Ballister said. “And no matter what happens, I will be right here beside you through it.”
Ambrosius smiled slightly. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Ambrosius.” Ballister said. “Should we get some sleep.”
“I don’t know if I’ll be able.” Ambrosius admitted, voice small.
“That’s okay.” Ballister said, taking Ambrosius’s hands. “Just try, and I’ll stay up with you until you can.”
Ambrosius grinned. “You’re too good for me.”
“Nonsense.” He smiled. “Nothing could be too good for you.”
Ballister kissed the back of Ambrosius’s hand and led him towards their bedroom, where he snuggled into bed beside him. With Ballister’s arms around him, secure and strong, Ambrosius was almost able to forget how terrified he was. He was almost able to forget that somewhere in the city was a person obsessed with him to the point they’d learned what his favorite flowers were and broke into his apartment to leave him there.
But the thought loomed in the back of his mind, keeping him staring into the pitch black as if doing so would keep anything from happening. As if keeping his eyes open would somehow scare them away. He was suddenly aware of how foolish it was of him to be scared of monsters for so long, when all the real threats were terrifyingly human all along.