(may or may not be based on real events)
The slamming door behind me was only the beginning of my problems. Figures that the fire alarm had to go off again in the middle of February. As the door latched and locked behind me, I realized I had forgotten my keys, had left them on their hook by the window. Over the blaring alarm and the pounding feet in the stairwell, I could hear the approaching sirens. Three flights down my entire building was standing in the sub-zero weather, shivering against the winter winds. Looking around, I giggled quietly at the odd assortment of sleep wear. Everything from just boxers to fleece onesies. You can tell a lot about people by how they sleep. Twenty minutes later it’s obvious that the alarm was a false one. Some halfwit had used the fire exit after drinking too much and set off the building wide horn. My feet are numb, and my teeth are chattering, and I have no idea how to get back into my room. Thank goodness for neighbors with couches. Granted, it’s not nearly as comfortable as my bed, but it means I’ll catch a couple hours of sleep. So when someone knocks on the door, I don’t even think twice before answering, despite being clad in only a sleep shirt and massive bags under my eyes. I didn’t think, that is, until I actually opened the door and was greeted with tall, dark, and gorgeous. Why is this person knocking on our door? Right, this isn’t my apartment. (Bad word, bad word, bad word) I felt my face flush red in embarrassment. That slamming door was only the start of their problems.