A few minutes later Ean reached the safety of his apartment and slammed the door shut behind himself. Thanks, he gasped, for skipping the running.
It was no problem. His wheezing for breath was ample demonstration to The Audience that he wasn’t in that great of shape anymore despite still being skinny and this way he was home in plenty of time for the guest that would be by later.
Guest? Ean leaned against the door, still breathing heavily. Damnit, Narrator, I told you I don’t want any more ‘foreshadowings’ or ‘out of character information.’ I want to live a normal life, for-
Ding-Dong! came the interruption, and Ean fell silent. He was, no doubt, curious as to who his guest would be despite his protestations to the contrary.
Ean glowered at me, proving I was right. Well, he muttered, The Gang never uses the doorbell, anyway. He straightened. It’s open, he called out just as before shouting the realization: Shit, I don’t have a doorbell!
The door swung open and Big stepped through. He caught Ean by the head and lifted him off his feet.
In the hallway, Little laughed. Told you he’d fall for it. He grinned his psychotic grin. I do a great doorbell.