Goblin Boyfriend Giert (special preview)

One day, you’re coming home from a rather hard day of work. You dealt with some nasty customers and then had to have a meeting with your boss. It was as humiliating as it was unnecessary. A customer complained about something that wasn’t even your fault and you were taken to the manager. Oh sure, he said he understood, but the way he talked made you feel like a child. Then the way he told you to show more skin made you want to vomit.

As you were unlocking your door, the most terrifying thing happened. The key snapped off in the lock. You stare at the jagged nub attached to your keychain, jaw dropped and eyes wide. In vain, you attempt to reconnect the two piece, even if just to turn the lock. You slam the metal against one another, hoping for some sort of melding to occur. 

When nothing happens and you’re left in the hallway to contemplate your bad luck, you break down. You slam your forehead to the door as the tears start to flow freely. Your body shudders and trembles as you cry. Holding your hands to your face, you sniffle and snot into the palms of your gloves.

The front door opens and your neighbor walks in, looking a little worse for the wear himself. He’s whistling, but the tune immediatly stops as he sees your blubbering form hitting your forehead against the door.

You starts to walk by, going to his own door but as he lifts his key he sighs. His shoulders slouch and he turns around.

“You alright?” He asks with a gruff voice.

You whimper and snivel and hold up the nub leftover from your key.

“Oh,” he comes towards you, walking under you as he looks at the key in the lock. “That’s some luck you got there.”

You try to say something but it all comes out as squeaky whining that’s unintelligible to anybody.

He huffs and shakes his head. “I can fix it for you. Just give me an hour. I’m starving and need a shower.” He unlocks his door then turns to you. “Stop crying, calm the fuck down,” he grumps. “Come in.”

You sniffle and rub at your eyes. “Thank you,” you whimper.

The goblin grumbles under his breath, tilting his head down as he walks into his apartment. You follow after him, catching glance at yourself in a mirror by the door. Your makeup is smudged to hell and your bloodshot eyes and nose make you look insane.

“Sit down,” he says, motioning to the sofa. He steps out of his coveralls, revealing he’s wearing a black shirt and jeans underneath. 

“Thanks,” you snivel.

He turns and looks sharply at you, running his fingers through his dark hair. “Stop crying. It ain’t the end of the world.” His nose then curls. “You smell like you need a bath as much as I do.”

“What?” You whimper, looking up at him.

He clicks his tongue. “Never mind.” He tosses a folder at you. “There’s menus in there, see if there is anything you like.” He walks into his bathroom and shuts the door. You even hear the lock turn.

You take your purse, grabbing the emergency makeup wipes from inside. You mop up your face, cleaning off the mascara and eyeliner that had given you crazy clown eyes. You then slouch back in the sofa and looks around.

His place was pretty clean, uncluttered. He had one bookshelf that was full and then stacks of books underneath it. He had a fireplace just like yours and there were logs stacked to the side of it. There was a lingering aroma you recognized from the hallway, but that could just be his coveralls he stripped off. Other than that, you were starting to realize how much perfume was seeping from you. Maybe that’s what he meant.

You open up the folder, looking through all the takeout menus he had collected. You sift through them, not really feeling hungry but wanting to stuff your face to feel better about yourself. So you looked for a restaurant you knew had heaping portions.

You see his name on the bottom of one of the menus, Giert Brolk. You feel bad that after all this time you didn’t know it. You’ve lived together for about two years now and this is the most time you’ve ever been around him.

The bathroom door opened and steam came pouring out. Giert stepped out, wearing only a towel around his waist. He quickly went into the next room over, closing the door. He came out a few moments later, his hair slicked back and wearing a black shirt and jeans again.

“See anything?” Giert asks.

“Uhm,” you look at the menu in your hands and he snatches it away.