The guitar hit a particularly aggressive chord progression.
Annabelle yawned. She was tired. Properly tired since it was the middle of the week. But she wasn't angry. She didn't do angry very well anyway, it always felt uncomfortable, like wearing someone else's shoes.
She was just… disappointed?
That felt closer to the truth.
She'd hoped, genuinely hoped, that Raven would have understood. The note had been so friendly. The biscuits had been delicious. Surely that had communicated everything that needed communicating?
But perhaps Raven hadn't seen the note. Or perhaps she'd misunderstood. Or perhaps, and this was the thought Annabelle liked best, she simply didn't realize how late it was or how thin the cottage walls were.
Which meant this was a simple communication issue, easily resolved with a bit of gentle explanation.
Annabelle sat up and reached for her dressing gown. It was hanging over the chair by her window, the soft pink fabric covered in tiny embroidered flowers. She pulled it on over her pajamas, the ones with the cheerful cartoon dinosaurs that last year’s Year Three class had clubbed together to buy her for her birthday last year.
The hallway was dark and cold. Annabelle fumbled for her slippers and made her way downstairs, through her own cottage, and out the front door.
The night air was crisp and still. Above her, the stars were sharp against the black sky. The guitar music was louder out here, spilling from Raven's cottage in waves.
Annabelle crossed the small strip of shared garden that separated their front doors and knocked.
No answer.
She knocked again, louder this time.
Still nothing.
For an instant she contemplated opening the door but then remembered what had happened last time. Her face got hot.
On the third knock, the music abruptly stopped.
There was a moment of silence, and then footsteps. The door swung open.
Raven stood there, looking thoroughly confused. Her dark hair was pulled back in a messy knot, and she was wearing black jeans and a faded band t-shirt. In one hand, she still held her guitar.
"Hi!" Annabelle said brightly, stifling another yawn. "I'm so sorry to bother you this late."
Raven blinked at her. Then her gaze traveled down to take in the dinosaur pajamas and pink dressing gown.
"I just wanted to…" Annabelle continued, determined to stay pleasant and reasonable. "Well, I'm not sure if you got my note from the other day? The one with the biscuits?"
"I got it." Raven's voice was flat.
"Oh! Wonderful! That's great." Annabelle smiled. "It's just, well, the music is still quite loud at night, and I've got school in the morning. The children are wonderful, obviously, but they do require a certain amount of energy, and I'm finding it a bit hard to sleep with all the, um, the guitar? Which is beautiful, by the way. You're incredibly talented. But maybe just… not quite so late?"
She was rambling now, she could hear herself doing it, but something about the way Raven was staring at her was making her nervous.
"I teach Year Three," Annabelle added, because apparently she couldn't stop talking. "They're seven and eight years old. Lovely age, really, but very energetic, and tomorrow we have PE first thing, which is always a bit chaotic, so I really do need to be at my best…"
"Right," Raven said.
"So if you could maybe wrap up soon?" Annabelle gave her most winning smile, the one that usually worked on parents during difficult conferences. "That would be absolutely brilliant. I'd really appreciate it."
There was a long pause.
"Right," Raven said eventually.
"Oh, thank you so much! That's very kind of you." Annabelle beamed. "And again, I'm so sorry for bothering you. I know it's late. Or early? I suppose it depends on how you look at it."
