Breaking Quarantine Chapter 1 free porn video

“Things seem to be getting bad out there, Jan.” 

“Yes, they are Jim. The governor is talking that state and countrywide lockdowns could be in place within the next day or so.” 

“Oh enough,” Molly grumbled, turning off the TV and its constant news coverage.

She stretched and her eyes fell on the laundry basket. “Crap. I forgot.” 

Molly looked down at her tank top and sweatpants, double-checking to make sure she was decent enough to run down to the laundry room. At the moment, she was far less sexy than the story she just recorded would suggest. Lingerie, generally something black and lace was the go-to sexy outfit people wrote about. 

In the last story she just finished recording, the woman had been a double F. Molly stopped in front of the basket, cupped her modest Bs, and laughed. “I would have toppled over with those big ol’ things.”  She slipped her shoes on and made her way to the basement. 

She stepped out of the elevator and heard one of the washers on its spin cycle. ‘Lord, I hope it’s not 4B,’ she thought and slowed her steps so she could peek inside. 

The man standing in front of the row of dryers was far from the gross man in apartment 4B. She stood in the doorway and smiled at the subtle cock of his head while he studied the machine in front of him. He threw his hands up and made a frustrated sound. 

“If you put money in the third one, you have to jiggle the knob a few times for the money to fully fall.” 

As he turned and looked at her, she felt the blush rise on her cheeks. ‘Wow, he’s hot,’ she thought and scurried over to the first open washing machine. 

Molly heard him jiggle the handle and then the dryer came to life. “Hey, thanks for that.” 

She glanced back at him and nodded. “No worries.”

~Flynn~

“Welcome to the exciting world of bachelorhood,” Flynn mumbled to himself as he stood alone in the apartment building’s basement laundry room. “Come on. You’re not going to be beaten by a stupid clothes dryer.”

He had just stuffed his load of damp laundry --unsorted, of course-- into the dryer, closed the lid, and dropped his coins in the slot. Nothing.

After ensuring it was plugged in, he grabbed hold of the sides and gave it a shake. No good.

He shoved it with his hip. Nothing doing.

Finally, he slapped the side with his hand. Not a peep.

He pulled out his phone and hovered his thumb over the screen. Who was he supposed to call? Leila always did the laundry when they lived together. He was going to admit to her now that he couldn’t operate a dryer on his own?

Out of frustration, he grumbled, “Dammit!”

“If you put money in the third one, you have to jiggle the knob a few times for the money to fully fall.”

Flynn blinked. A calm, helpful voice turned him around.

He didn’t intend for his eyes to widen or his mouth to slip ajar, but that is exactly what happened upon seeing this particular woman carrying her laundry into the room, smiling at him. If a word had escaped from the crack between his lips, it would have been simply “Pretty”. A half-second later, he amended that to “Damn Pretty” with an arrow pointing straight up to “Freaking Hot”.

As she turned away towards the washing machines on the other side of the room, he followed her with his eyes, his sight slowly dropping down her back toward her sweet bum. Suddenly, he shook himself out of his momentary stupor. It was almost as if he had to remind himself he wasn’t some high school kid insta-crushing on some girl-- hell, it’d been years since he graduated college.

Clearing his throat, he took a breath and turned around. Following her instruction, he gave the knob a jiggle. The coins clinked, the motor started and then the dryer hummed --or rather wheezed-- to life.

Flynn smiled, momentarily relieved. Then he noticed the sticker on the top of the machine pointing directly to the knob. It read, “Coins stick. Shake the handle.”

He closed his eyes, tilted his head back and sighed. Being his very self-conscious self, he thought he could hear the woman giggling behind him. It was probably time for his escape.

Headed for the exit, as he was passing behind her he stopped and said, “Hey, thanks for that.”

She looked back at him with gentle eyes, attractive tiny circles of light caught in each pupil. Again, he was instantly struck.

The woman nodded and said, “No worries."

Flynn thought of a follow-up to keep things moving but suddenly noticed something. Was she blushing? There was definitely a deepening rosy color in her cheeks. Why is she blushing? And of course, he definitely liked it on her.

“Uh…” He had to look away to think. Then, while staring at her basket of laundry, he noticed something else, namely a few pieces of lacey lingerie. Eyebrows arching, his lips tightened and drifted askew. His poker-face sucked.

The woman followed his sightline. With a sudden soft gasp, she grabbed her lingerie and stuffed the apparel beneath the rest of her clothes. She didn’t turn back to face him after that.

“Sorry,” Flynn blurted, then scolded himself because now she knew he had been gawking at her lingerie. He sputtered, “I mean… thanks again… for your help. Nice to meet you.”

Then he sped out of the room and down the hallway. After jabbing the elevator button a few times, he got in when it arrived and punched his floor. Eyes raised, he anxiously watched the floor numbers change as the elevator rattled its way up.

Holy shit, she was pretty.

He scratched his fingers roughly through his hair before dragging his hand down his face.

“You didn’t even tell her your name, moron,” he muttered to himself.

~Molly~

Molly turned in time to see him slip out the door. She took a deep breath, let it out quickly, and leaned on the top of the washer. “Holy cow he’s good looking.”

Her head hung down and she sighed, then groaned. “Why was the lingerie on top? I mean come on.” 

She picked up the offending item of clothing and shook it. “I’ve never even worn you yet. So embarrassing,” she scolded it and finished loading the machine.

The washer thrummed underneath Molly as she sat on top of it, kicking her feet to the beat of one of her current obsessions, Tate McRae’s You Broke Me First. She looked around the room and her eyes locked on dryer #3. 

It had stopped tumbling but she knew the busted dryer well enough to know the clothes weren’t dry. Molly slipped off and walked over to it. She pulled an earbud out and looked around before she opened the door and felt through his clothes. 

“I knew it,” she said softly and pulled out two more quarters to start the machine again. 

She placed her hand on the glass feeling it grow warm under her palm. “And you’ll never know. Whoever you are. God, why didn’t I get his name?” 

‘Cause your brain shuts off when you’re around people,’ she mocked herself, and then it hit her. “Oh, you dummy, I bet he’s my new neighbor.”

Molly’s previous neighbor was a sweet, older, mostly deaf lady named Mrs. Kersh. She used to make her hot teas and cookies all the time. 

‘It doesn’t mean you know his name,’ she thought and then made a bold choice. She grabbed her clothes and threw them in a dryer before running from the room and going back to her apartment, hoping she wouldn’t see him on her way. 

She rummaged around her desk until she found her Post-It notes, grabbed a pen, and headed back downstairs. 

It took her four times, but she finally managed to write one simple thing. 

“Hiya, my name is Molly. Welcome to the building.” 

She stuck the Post-It inside of her neighbor’s basket and left the room before she could second guess her bold actions. 

An hour later she made herself go back to the laundry room. This time it was empty and even the basket was gone. He had the note.

*

Two weeks later and everything had changed. Everyone and everything were on lockdown. The world had changed and everyone was learning to adapt. Molly rarely had her TV on anymore and had thrown herself into her work.

She had caught sight of her new neighbor in the courtyard a few times. Always in a mask, but it didn't distract from how handsome she knew he was. 

Not that she was spying on him, but she loved to watch him warm-up before his runs. Seeing him had inspired her to consider jogging again. She considered it but hadn't actually done it.

~Flynn~

Flynn breathed hard as he sprinted the last leg of his afternoon run, heading back to the apartment. The mask wasn’t helping his oxygen intake. 

It’d been a couple of weeks since the social distancing and quarantine rules came into effect. It took all of four days into it for him to succumb to the urge to go for a run. Since the gyms were shut down, running provided his only real exercise other than doing push up challenges in his small apartment. Plus, he already felt antsy hanging around at home all the time. He was set up to work from home but had trouble focusing during all of the video conference meetings even while wearing the headphones with the volume turned up.  

Running gave him focus, and nowadays, a mask was required if he wanted to do it. Halfway through his run, it was already damp from his breath, and he kept having to adjust it, which somewhat compromised its protective purpose. It also made it harder for him to just enjoy running and savor the endorphin kick.

There were a few minutes, though, towards the end where he hit the sweet spot and was able to lose himself in his thoughts. They immediately drifted towards her. 

Molly.

He knew her name. She had written it on a Post-It note and left it for him on the clothes dryer. While he had made his way back up to his apartment with his laundry, he wondered if it was just a friendly hello, welcoming him to the apartment, or if it meant anything else. He was leaning towards the former. 

Only after he had put away his laundry did he even think of leaving a note for her on the washing machine she had been using. By the time he had gone back down with his own Post-It note with his name and a message thanking her again, the washing machine had already been emptied.

Back in the apartment, he had regarded her note again like it was Cinderella’s lost slipper. She hadn’t told him her apartment number; no phone number to call. 

She had probably just been trying to be friendly. 

As he slowed to a jog and entered the apartment courtyard, he pictured her in his head from the memory of their brief meeting; mere minutes, really. While he did his cool-down stretches on the grass, he smirked behind his mask and shook his head at himself for being so quickly hung up on a woman.

Still, he pictured her face as clearly as the blue sky above and just as attractive. When he initially thought of her as ‘pretty’, he hadn’t meant it as some puppy love, schoolboy comment. For Flynn, when he thought of a woman as genuinely pretty --like knock the breath out of you type of pretty-- it meant she was as attractive to him as a woman others would describe as ‘sexy’ or ‘hot’. She was definitely both of those, as well. 

Then her voice… so goddamn sweet. She must have said all of a dozen words to him, yet he committed her voice --smooth, playful, almost sultry-- to memory as if she were speaking in his head. He would love to talk to her more, hear her more.

With eyes closed, he breathed deeply as he stretched. He fell deeper into thought, thoughts about her… Molly wearing that silky piece of lingerie he spotted on top of her laundry.

He suddenly felt a twinge in the crotch of his compression running pants. 

“Oh, shit.”

This self-isolation thing was starting to do funny things to him.

Quickly he ran back into the apartment. He took the stairs up to avoid bumping into people on the elevator, and not necessarily for the purposes of social distancing. It was a good thing he did. By the time he got to his floor, he felt a little less stimulated, both in mind and within his pants.

He hurried down the hallway and into his apartment. When he shut the door, he immediately ripped off the mask and took a few nice, deep breaths before stripping off his shirt and using it to wipe down his chest.

He heard music suddenly start to play, coming from his neighbor’s apartment. It was the first real peep he had noticed from next door, and he had yet to meet whomever it was. They had been keeping pretty quiet since he moved in. Probably some old lady and her cats.

He paused, tilting his head. He recognized the song: Tate McRae’s “You Broke Me First”. Mindlessly resuming rubbing down his arms, he grooved gently to the mellow, haunting melody and beats, closing his eyes, swaying his chin forward and back, side-to-side.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t an old lady next door. 

Maybe?

He hummed along to the song as he made his way to the bathroom, kicking off his shoes and pulling down his pants. He needed a cold shower.

~Molly~

Molly paced around her living room singing softly. Being at home had been both a blessing and a curse. As much as she disliked crowds and enjoyed being at home there were still times she loved being with people. Not necessarily talking to them, it was more like watching them and now that was impossible. 

Being at home like most everyone else, also meant that more and more people were writing. That meant she was busier than usual and tired of being in her bedroom. 

She moved her recording set up into the living room like she had a dozen times before. Molly unfolded the last partition panel used to help muffle the outside sounds. The balcony door was still open to let the breeze flow through. It was too cool for the AC but too warm to keep it closed. 

Molly made sure the one corner was flush with the wall behind her chair and had a brief thought, ‘I wonder if Mrs. Kersh ever heard me. Surely she would have said something.’ She touched the wall separating her and her new neighbor. The thought of him stretching before his runs made her smile and feel a little warm. 

Her fingers tapped lightly and she giggled. “Well, I hope not.” 

This latest story was especially naughty with a lot of quick back and forths in the dialogue between characters. She would have to pay close attention and with the content already making her blush, she was a little nervous. 

She settled into her chair and slipped her headphones on. With a deep breath, Molly began to read.

Maria was on her knees looking up at John. She smiled that sexy smile and purred up at him, “No Sir, please don't punish me.”

Molly smiled at how perfectly this story flowed. She wasn’t picturing the tall blonde in the story, instead, she replaced him with her neighbor.  

“Do you want it inside me? Do you want to feel this tight little pussy?” Maria’s voice was mockingly sweet as she continued to tease John. 

The story was coming to its climax and it had been really good. So good in fact, that Molly couldn't stop her wandering fingers. Almost from the start, she had been touching and lightly petting herself between her legs. As she grew closer to the ending she slipped them inside her shorts and over her damp panties. She gasped softly into the microphone. 

His cock slammed into Maria and she moaned loudly. "Yes. Oh yes, please. Harder.”

“Such a bad girl,” John grunted.  

“I’m your bad girl."

Molly moaned when the moment felt right and she played up how Maria felt. Her voice quivered and she whimpered, all to show exactly what the woman was feeling. Exactly what she was feeling. 

It was so easy with her fingers rubbing her clit hard and fast. She was trying to time her orgasm with Maria's and so far she was doing just fine.

"I’m gonna cum.” 

John smacked her ass. “That’s it, Maria, give it to me,” he encouraged. 

At those simple words, she came covering him with his reward.

Those were the words Molly had been waiting to say and finally allowed herself to cum. 

She finished the last of the audio and continued to lay back in the chair just enjoying the relaxed feeling. Her climactic tension now assuaging, allowing her to pull back to the moment. Satisfied. 

After a few moments, Molly stood, adjusted her shorts, and walked to the balcony. As she stepped out and stretched she thought she saw her neighbor stepping back in his apartment.

A blush crept over her face. 'Lord, he couldn't hear me, right?'

~Flynn~

Flynn walked out of his bedroom after having changed into more comfortable clothing -- a pair of jersey pants and a tank top. While he was working from home, he still had to wear somewhat professional attire for all the online meetings he needed to attend. He couldn’t get away with just looking decent on top, either. Having already been caught standing and walking away from the computer while not wearing any pants --showing off his black stretch briefs and bare legs to his colleagues and boss-- he took no further chances and always wore a pair of slacks during the day.

He was on the phone as he went to the fridge to grab a beer. Leila had called to check on him.

“So, I’m glad to hear you’re hanging in there,” she said.

“Yeah. A little stir crazy sometimes,” he admitted, “but not too bad.”

“Well, I know I didn’t have to worry about you cooking… I miss your lasagna, by the way,” she chuckled and added, “Your laundry on the other hand…”

Flynn winced. He didn’t want to tell her that he was almost stymied by the dryer. “I’m managing.”

“Okay, well, I should let you go, then.”

“What are you gonna be up to this evening?” he asked.

Leila sighed, “Online chatting and dating.”

Flynn paused and cocked his head back. “Really? Good for you.”

“Yes. I mean, now’s actually a good time to do this, in a way,” she said. “Just getting to know people from a distance for a bit. No pressure to meet right away…”

He nodded. “Sure.”

"Be a little naughty…”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, chuckling, “Alright. Got it.”

She chuckled and said, “Gotta go. Take it easy, Flynn.”

“’Night, Lei.”

After they hung up, he took a long sip of beer, then paused, thinking. Leila had already started looking for someone else. It didn’t surprise him. Even though it’d only been a short time since they separated, their spark had long since extinguished while they lived together; just no excitement or passion in their relationship any longer. It was a credit to both of them that neither cheated on the other, but unable to see themselves living that way together for the rest of their lives, they finally parted amicably. If she was ready to move on with another guy, more power to her.

Flynn strolled out onto his balcony.  It was a comfortable night outside and it felt good to get out of the stuffy apartment. He leaned on his railing, sipping his beer, gazing out onto the city. He noted how relatively quiet it was on the streets with the stay-at-home orders affecting the amount of traffic there was, particularly in the evening. He could actually hear sounds that he’d never noticed before.

That included the voice of his next-door neighbor.

Flynn gulped his mouthful of beer and tilted his head aside towards the balcony next to his, focusing in on the sounds coming from the open window. Normally, he wouldn’t try to eavesdrop like this, but there was something about the voice that nipped at his attention. It only took a couple of seconds for him to recognize it, his brows suddenly peaking at the realization.

Molly was his neighbor.

Unable to help himself, he stepped aside and leaned against his balcony railing, his ear attuned to the sounds of her voice. It didn’t quite sound like she was having a typical conversation, not as if she was speaking to someone over the phone. It sounded as if she was reading or reciting something, except her voice --still as sweet and pleasant as he remembered-- had a somewhat added richness or fullness to it. Deeper. Silky. Sultry.

Flynn put his beer down and leaned in even closer, frowning, holding his lips tight in his mouth so as not to make any sound. 

His heart was already beating faster when he suddenly heard her gasp sharply then utter words in a way that he immediately had a much clearer idea of what was going on.

“Do you want to feel this tight little pussy?”

Jesus. Just hearing her tender voice ache such dirty words was enough to send a stirring pulse through his cock. When he listened to her whimper and moan, the desperate strain evident in her voice, the pulse quickly evolved into a full-on throb and his shaft was soon drifting upward, hardening, pressing at the front of his forgiving jersey pants. He moved his hand down to adjust it and kept it there.

“….please. Harder… I’m your bad girl…”

As she continued with her sensuous and scorching hot talk, his imagination soon caught up to what he was hearing. He envisioned Molly in her lingerie, touching herself, teasing her clit with her fingers, her pretty face and neck flush and glowing.

Flynn grimaced, his heart racing along with his dirty thoughts. His frown forced his eyes shut as he continued to listen and rub himself, forgetting he was standing out in the open air on his balcony.

At some point, he may have heard her reach her climax, moaning through what must have been a most satisfying orgasm, but he realized he wasn’t sure when that happened.  Suddenly, he was all too aware that she had stopped speaking and that all he heard was his own heavy breaths coming from his flared nostrils and the raspy grunts trickling up his throat.

He quickly went back into his apartment, pulling the door shut behind him, hoping she hadn’t noticed him out there listening to her, invading her private moment of intimacy.

Flynn slumped down onto his futon and tilted his head back against the wall that he shared with Molly’s apartment. Eyes closed again, he pulled the waist of his pants down and took a firm grip of his rigid shaft. Holding Molly’s enticing image and provocative voice in his mind, he finished what he started on the balcony, taking an imagined, illicit encounter with her to a gut-wrenching, messy, and entirely satisfying conclusion.

He was going to need another shower… as well as having to do another load of laundry.

~Molly~

A few days had passed since Molly thought she saw her neighbor on his balcony. Wondering if he had caught her saying and doing such naughty things had played out in her mind a few times since that evening. The thought made her nervous and excited.

Of course, it was always in bed, in the dark and the last time had been so satisfying she fell asleep with her fingers still in her panties.  

She grinned to herself thinking of the next morning waking up in the same position, blankets at her knees, t-shirt pulled up and fingers still tucked inside.  The one lingering thought of her neighbor bending her over the railing had her going again.  

After her shower, she made toast and decided to check her emails. Molly scrolled the submissions and noted the ones she wanted to do first. Halfway down she spotted something that made her gasp with excitement. “F.P.”

F.P. was one of her favorites to record and after a quick scan, she decided she wanted to do his first. The Sounds of Dirty Laundry. Roughly four paragraphs down Caitlyn, obviously the main character, caught her neighbor having sex on the washing machine. She couldn’t wait to read more. The story made her grin and of course think of her neighbor and where they first met. 

Most things made her think of him lately. Part of her daily routine was looking out the window to the courtyard in hopes of seeing him stretch before his run. At that thought, she made her way to the window. She looked up and down the street but there was no sign of him. Molly sighed and gathered her equipment.

“She narrowed her eyes when she realized that Jae held the woman's arm behind her back in a firm hammerlock. The woman wouldn't have been able to move even if she wanted to, exposed to his aggressive, disciplined thrusts for as hard and as long as he desired.”  

The moan that slipped through her lips was real, not put on for the listener’s pleasure. Her mind instantly slipped to him bent over, stretching his long lean body. She pictured that body pressed behind her, moving and taking her the way Jae in the story took this woman. 

Molly couldn’t remember a story that had her so worked up she wanted to stop reading and take care of the almost painful ache between her legs. She waited though. The sound of her breathy voice and real-life need would only fuel the sound. 

“Almost standing on her toes, she felt firm hands grasp her at the elbows and pull her up, bowing her back, pressing her thighs and pelvis against the machine. It jostled against her, pushing her aggressively back and forth, side to side just as Jae's grinding thrusts hit a new level of fervor. She could feel the flesh on her butt ripple with every one of his stiff smacks.”

She read that paragraph and whimpered. The need to touch was too strong and she rubbed the heel of her hand down hard over her pussy. Her hips pushed up and she moaned while attempting to focus on the climax of the story. Molly continued to rub over her wet throbbing mound but refused to give in yet.

"Ohh... " Her body curled as she inhaled, held her breath then shuddered aloud, "God!"

The God she cried out as Caitlyn reached her orgasm was said more as a plea and she couldn’t take it any longer. 

With a growl of frustration, she stopped the recording, ripped off her headphones, and made her way to the counter still holding the tablet. She pressed sheer damp panties hard into the counter and began reading that part out loud again.

 “Almost standing on her toes, she felt firm hands grasp her at the elbows and pull her up, bowing her back, pressing her thighs and pelvis against the machine. It jostled against her, pushing her aggressively back and forth, side to side just as Jae's grinding thrusts hit a new level of fervor. She could feel the flesh on her butt ripple with every one of his stiff smacks.” 

She continued to rub, moving up and down, her hard little nub flicking over it, finding her pleasure on the cool hard counter. 

Molly laid flat on the bar, her one arm extended across and cheek laid against the cold top. She gripped the edge and ground harder as the pressure built. “Oh God yes,” she moaned. 

Her eyes closed tight and she replaced the image of Jae with her neighbor and that was all she needed to push her over the edge. Molly’s body locked, held, and with a deep groan, it shuddered in the release. 

She stayed leaning on the counter for a little longer before grabbing her tablet and settling back down to finish the story. 

Once she was finished and had cleaned up her equipment she spied the laundry basket and with a giggle decided to go downstairs and do laundry.  Part of her hoped that he would be there and she would have another chance to actually speak to him. Other than her mother and a few people online she hadn't really spoken to anyone since lockdown. It would be nice to have a friend close by.  

“A sexy friend that I want to climb like a tree,” she mumbled. 

Molly made sure her hair was neat and actually added a little makeup around the eyes. Just in case she ran into him. With the mask firmly in place there was no need for anything else.

She grabbed the basket and lingered around her doorway a little longer than normal and leaned a little closer to his door wondering if he had made it back. ‘You look like a creep weirdo,’ she scolded herself and went to the laundry room.  

The washer was filling up and she looked around the room wondering if there were cameras.  She ran her hands along the top and pressed herself into the machine.  The memory of the story was still fresh in her mind. Her eyes flowed to the upper left corner of the room where she spied the little black globe. 

"There's the camera and you're practically humping the washer. Poor thing." 

She decided it was best to leave the laundry room before she did anything else embarrassing.  She got off the elevator on the ground floor in time to see the mailman open the first box. 

Molly stopped just outside the closing elevator door not sure what to do. It always felt like a scene from the Walking Dead. Are they infected? Should I run away? Will they get me and eat my brains? Okay probably not the last one, but it definitely made for a few awkward moments of uncertainty. 

"Hey, Molly." The masked and gloved mailman lifted a hand and nodded.  

Even with the mask, she could tell he was smiling.  

She lifted her hand.  "Hiya George, how'd you know it was me?" 

"It's the red hair, gal. You'll never rob a bank with that on your head." 

Molly snapped her fingers.  "You got me." She gave him a wink and a grin despite knowing that he couldn't see it.  "You being safe out there?"

"Safe as I can be. I see you have a new neighbor. Mrs. Kersh finally passed away?"

She nodded at him.  

"Have you met the new neighbor?" He looked down at the manila envelope in his hand. "Looks like 'Flynn' something. Can't make out the writing."

'Flynn. His name is Flynn,' she thought with a smile.  "Yes, once. He had kind eyes." Molly blushed at all the other descriptions she thought of but decided to keep to herself.  

"That's nice, I hope he is kind.  Well, this envelope won't fit in the box, and with him still being fairly new here would you want to take it up instead of me leaving it on the table or taking it back?" 

Her heart skipped a beat and she felt excitement stir in her stomach, but she tried to sound calm. “Of course.” 

He left the package on the table along with her mail and said his goodbyes.  She waited until he was out the door, called for the elevator and grabbed the mail.  

Molly wanted to talk to Flynn again and this piece of mail might be a way to do just that. Not that she could talk to him properly with the social distancing in place. She also didn’t want to be bold enough to leave him her phone number, but maybe she could be a little bold. She went into her apartment first and wrote him another note. 

“Hi, Flynn. 

It’s nice to have a name with the face. This wouldn’t fit in your box so I figured I would bring it to you. Now I know this may be forward of me but I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me. I will be on my balcony at 7 PM tonight. If you’d like to, bring your meal and we can eat together. Apart. 

Molly” 

She placed it on the envelope and leaned it against his door. After a couple of deep breaths, she knocked on it and slipped back inside her apartment. Molly leaned onto her door and listened for him to open his. Once the light of his open door faded she tip-toed into the kitchen to prepare her dinner. 

At 7 PM on the dot, she checked her reflection to make sure her curly hair was behaving itself. Satisfied that it was being good, she walked out on the balcony with her plate and a bottle of wine. 

Her nerves were starting to get the better of her. What if he had a girlfriend or not even into women? She took a deep breath, poured a small glass of wine, and waited to see if he would show.