A/N: Media = Elijah! Wootwoot!

            The first thing I notice about the girl is that she's incredibly cute.

Her initial reaction to opening the door has me trying very hard not to laugh. I've never seen anyone with quite a big a smile, her dainty nose contorted into a toothy grin, and her freckles dashed across her face like icing sugar over a cake. She's short— even on the doorstep, she's eye level with me, with these hazel eyes that blink at me in abrupt confusion. But the thing that's most obvious about her appearance is the rose-pink hair all the way to her roots, pulled up into two buns at either side of her head. Wisps of hair fall from them, cascading down the sides of her face like falling stars. To match, she's wearing a dark grey t-shirt with a constellation floating in the middle, and the slogan, "GEMINI FOR AN EYE" to match.

The second thing I notice is that I recognise her. It's Rosaria. The last time I saw her, I thought I'd never see her again.

My mouth quirks into a smile that I can't control, a mixture of relief and something else.

She stares at me, confusion and embarrassment settling into mortification, and she folds her arms behind her back. She sways a little on her feet, and her eyes flick from my face to the ground. She waits for me to speak.

Clearing my throat, I ask, 'May I borrow a charger?'

Another blink. Rosa tilts her head, and I wonder if she's warring inside with why I'm asking to borrow a charger. Quickly, I hold up my dead Iphone, the screen a blank.

'That was my alarm going off next door,' I explain, gesturing uselessly to my side. Rosa, bless her, pretends to follow where I'm pointing, in that polite way we British people do. 'I've only just moved in next door, and, I keep forgetting our alarm code. Everyone's out. I was going to try to ring my housemate to ask for the code...'

And I wave the phone, feeling increasingly stupid.

'Oh,' she says softly. Her hands unclasp, clasp again. Then she steps back. 'Come on in, I'll get you mine.'

She opens the door wider, and I walk up the steps into the house. The door closes with a small snap, and we're left standing in a dusty hallway with a dingy light. The rose-haired girl leads me to the first door on the right, and I'm surprised to find I'm standing in a bedroom.

I'm met by a wall of colour. There's a huge tapestry over her bed— a weaving of blue and purple and silver— alongside a kaleidoscope bedspread of stars and mountains and light. Across her walls are clippings and collections of photographs, meaningful quotes, and a bright yellow Rosie the Riveter picture over a desk. On the other side, a portrait of a pink-haired smiling girl is an exact likeness of the tiny girl blinking up at me. She follows my gaze, and a secret smile spreads across her lips.

'Daya painted that for me,' she says, looking admiringly at it. 'She painted it while I was in...while I was away.'

I look around as she says that sentence. I can tell from the haltering that she's omitted some information, but it's not hard to guess what. Everyone knows Rosa was admitted to a psychiatric hospital. Everyone knows that's why she missed a year.

Rosa, one of the smartest students in our year, who had always, always beaten me on our examinations...I'd graduated with the slight feeling I'd cheated. Like a world when I graduated without one of my biggest rivals— albeit one that probably doesn't know who I am— didn't exist.

But she's back. And most importantly...she seems well.

'It's beautiful,' I say with honesty.

Nodding and avoiding my gaze, Rosa pushes a charger into my hand. 'There you go. Elijah, wasn't it?'

Oh. So, she does know who I am.

'Yeah,' I say, and I wonder why my voice sounds so high. Have I always been that breathy when I speak? 'But you can call me Eli. Everybody does.'

'Eli,' she repeats, and looks up at me, all brown eyes and quirky glasses.

I stumble to plug in the charger. 'I hope you don't mind me charging it here? Don't want to risk the alarm going off again next door!'

Blink. 'That's ok,' she says, taking a seat on the bed. I pretend to fiddle with my phone until I can no longer disguise the fact that it's dead and not switching back on just yet. I look up to meet her gaze.

'—how's work?' Rosa asks.

'—so we're neighbours,' I say, and we both laugh as we speak over one another. She gestures for me to continue. 'I moved in three days ago, and I still can't remember the alarm code.'

She smiles, her mouth tilting to the side. 'Better forgetting the alarm code than a patient.'

I shrug, still nervous about the fact I was no longer a student, as she was. The day I'd started medical school over five years ago, I'd imagined that the junior doctors, like all doctors, were all-knowing and wise. Fast forward to present day and forgetting the alarm code is just one of many errors.

'There's that,' I agree, and there's another pause in which we don't talk.

I try to swallow. Rosa has an uncanny stare that's making my mouth dry.

'Neighbours,' she says, rolling the word on her tongue. I watch her lips with a unconscious gaze, before looking back at my rolled-up cuffs. 'Who else do you live with?'

'My best friend, Rhett,' I reply, and again, I hover over an answer. 'And my twin sister, Emilia.'

'Rhett,' Rosa says, her mouth making a pleasant 'O' shape. 'The pretty one?'

I nod, strangely irritated. Of course, she'd find Rhett attractive. I haven't met a person yet that hasn't found him delightful. His smooth, dark skin, strong physique and a face chiselled into a jaw that makes him look like Hercules, Rhett is never short of admirers.

'I haven't met an Emilia...' Rosa's fingers brush her bottom lip, still in thought.

'You wouldn't have,' I explain, 'She's not studying medicine. She's actually an arts student.'

Rosa pretends to shiver, throwing me a shy grin. 'Is she really hipster?'

'She'd say no...'

'Hipster. Does she buy Starbucks every day?'

'She really loves frappuchinos...'

'Hipster. Does she have a polaroid?'

I laugh out loud. Emi's room is covered in her polaroids, all in the most dreadfully arty poses imaginable. Some involve naked people, even. I tell Rosa this, and she grins.

'If I ever meet her, I'll feel like I already have an advantage,' she says.

'She'd love you,' I say, gesturing around the room. Rosa's taste for eclectic items clashes with anybody's idea of co-ordination, but Emilia would see the art and style in it. Emilia can see the art in anything, when she's having a good day.

Emilia and Rosa would probably have a lot in common.

I don't say this.

'I'm not hipster,' Rosa sighs, pushing up her glasses that have fallen down her nose. 'I think they call me a nerd, or a fangirl. When you like cool but not-yet-cool things you're a hipster.'

'I think frappuchinos are both a waste of money and well-known. You're the one that's got pink hair. If anything, you're the hipster.'

She throws a pillow at me.

My phone buzzes back to life.

I invite her to my house.

'We're having a house party tonight,' I say. 'Rhett and Emi wanted some fun, especially now Rhett and I work. We've invited people from both our years...'

Rosa stares hard at the second pillow she's clutching, preventing any more heading my way.

'It starts in a few hours. You should come.' My voice sounds tiny.

Rosa's smile is forced. 'I'm too hipster for parties.'

I pull my phone from the charger, rooting through my phonebook to find Rhett or my sister. My sister shows up first.

'You can meet Emilia,' I say, oddly hopeful.

The girl turns me down a second time. 'I'm not big on parties.'

My sister replies to my text almost immediately, with the alarm code and an emoji that expresses its intense dislike for my idiocy.

I thank Rosa for letting me come inside, and she sees me to the door.

I don't ask her a third time.