Chapter Text
Cullen lay awake in bed, listening to the ticking clock. His sheets were tangled around his legs, his arms stretched above his head. He’d thrown off his shirt an hour ago. The sweat collecting on his skin was making him consider losing his boxers as well.
Of all the days for symptoms to resurface, it had to be today. Because of course it did. The night before he was due to start his new job, and he was too warm and jittery to sleep.
“Maker...” he sighed and rolled over, swinging his legs off the bed. He cupped his face in his hands, rubbed his fingers over his brow.
Cassandra had told him to call at any time, day or night. But sponsor or no, he really did not want to wake her up at 2am. He just had to work this out.
Pacing around the room helped a bit, but not much. His room--and apartment, for that matter--was too tiny to allow much walking anyway. But more strenuous exercise was out of the question this late; his neighbors on all sides would have him drawn and quartered.
So. It would have to be candy and meditation again. The bowl on top of the fridge was still half-full of large suckers, and he grabbed a handful before sitting on one of his couch cushions.
Back straight. Shoulders back. Deep breaths. Suck on the candy (cherry flavored). Relax.
His thoughts spiraled down, down, into the breaths sighing in and out of his lungs. He became aware of his own heartbeat, and sucked on the candy in rhythm with it. And, as usual, memories of Solona rose up and engulfed him.
It was her fault, whispered a dark, hidden part of him. All of it. If she hadn’t left...
Stop it.
You hate her.
No.
She ruined you. You will never be good enough. Not for anyone.
Cullen wrenched his thoughts away from that dark corner. “I’m not.” He whispered. “I’m fine. I’m fine just like this.”
Saying it out loud made it a fraction more believable.
It took a long time to wind down. By the time Cullen finally crawled into bed and dozed off, it was past three in the morning. He would have to get up at six with only four hours of sleep. But at least it was better than nothing.
I’m fine, he thought, his consciousness slipping away. I’m fine.
A bright, clear voice called him back to reality. As he lifted his aching head off the pillow, looking around for the source, Cullen realized three things:
One, the woman’s voice (it was definitely a woman, he was sure) had woke him up just before his alarm, which he immediately turned off.
Two, the woman in question was not in his apartment. His bathroom door stood open, and as he went in he realized he was hearing his neighbor through an apparently very thin bathroom wall.
And three, the woman was singing. It sounded like...it was. Natural Woman.
“...Before the day I met you, life was so unkind.
But you're the key to my peace of mind...”
A pause. Cullen realized that there was background music. She must have a radio in her bathroom. Then she threw herself into the chorus. He listened, a grin spreading across his face, as his neighbor informed the world at large in sonorous tones that she did, in fact, feel like a natural woman.
He almost wanted to laugh, but his neighbor actually had a very fine voice. Mezzo-soprano, perhaps? And when had she moved in? It might have even been yesterday, while he was out.
Regardless, he had a neighbor who sang beautifully in the shower, and he still needed to get ready for work. He turned his own shower on, waiting a bit to let it warm up before he stepped in. The heat from the water and the impassioned singing from next door washed over him, and he felt soothed. Calm.
The song on his neighbor’s radio ended, and as the next one began, Cullen recognized the opening piano notes. He knew this song. It opened with a male voice before switching to the female singer. Should he...?
And then, before he knew it, he responded to the cue of the music. His voice rose up into the space waiting for it.
“Turn around...”
His neighbor must have been surprised; she missed the first part of the line and stumbled to catch up.
“Every now and then I get a little bit lonely and you’re never coming round...”
He almost couldn’t respond. Had he ruined her morning, her private moment in the shower? But he sang anyway, though he could hear his own hesitation.
“Turn around...”
“Every now and then I get little bit tired of listening to the sound of my tears.”
Her voice was stronger now, happy. It felt like she was encouraging him. His voice rose, and hers responded in kind, and then he was belting out, “Turn around, Bright Eyes!”
“Every now and then I fall apart!” She cried out.
“Turn around, Bright Eyes!”
“Every now and then I fall apart!”
And then they were singing a duet in perfect harmony, their voices sounding beautiful in the way they only could in a bathroom. Her voice was powerful, demanding he keep even as she matched his tone, bolstering him. Cullen felt his body shaking as he fought to keep his voice steady, shower forgotten. His chest ached, and he couldn’t tell if it was because of the way he was pouring himself into the song or if it was his heart, full in a way it hadn’t been in a long time.
When the song came to an end, Cullen rasped out the final line, his hand reaching out to the shower wall that connected them. Silence reigned, broken only by the rush of water from the faucet. She must have turned off her radio.
Oh, Maker. After the fact, he felt like such a fool. “Er, thank you,” he said, making sure to pitch his voice loud enough for her to hear.
His neighbor laughed. At first he thought it sounded very melodious, until he heard her snort. “No, thank you!” She replied. “Have a good morning!”
Cullen smiled. “You as well. I hope I see you later.”
“Likewise.”
She snapped back on the radio, but didn’t sing anymore, and neither did he. Cullen finished his shower and rushed through the rest of his morning routine, pausing for a moment as he stepped out the door to see if she was also leaving. No such luck; the door to apartment D-3 remained shut. He locked his own door, D-1, and took the elevator downstairs.
He would have to rush if he wanted a cup of coffee on his way to the train this morning, but Cullen grinned. It was such a small thing, singing along with someone in the shower, but it felt...it felt better than fine.
Not a bad place to start, really.