TAMING APOLLO | completed

The persistent, urgent knocking on my door dragged me from a deep, unwilling slumber. My mind, still swimming in the remnants of a dream I couldn't quite grasp, reeled from the sudden intrusion.
Whoever it was out there certainly wasn't giving up; the doorknob jiggled violently, rattling against its frame like a caged beast. A glance at my phone confirmed my worst fears: three in the morning. Who in their right mind would be at my door at three in the morning?
My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the relentless knocking. I slid out of bed, my hand instinctively reaching for the cool, solid grip of the metal baseball bat tucked beneath it. Dressed in my trusty sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, I crept towards the door, the rhythmic thudding never once ceasing.
Pressing my hand to my chest, I felt my own frantic pulse, and beneath it, a strange, faint echo, as if another heart was beating almost in sync with mine. I shook the unsettling thought away, my hand trembling slightly as I peered through the peephole.
A groan escaped my lips when I saw her. My shoulders slumped in resignation as I tossed the bat onto the couch and unlocked the door.
