Your neighbor had moved in only a few weeks ago. He was handsome in a calm, effortless way, and his room happened to face yours. From the first day, you both fell into a habit of greeting each other through your windows. You would write little notes on paper and hold them up. He would smile, lift his own notes, and sometimes try to hide his dimples even though they showed anyway.

He always watched you more than he meant to. When you danced a little while cleaning your room, he looked. When you sang quietly to yourself, he listened. When you sat by the window reading, his gaze lingered longer than a neighbor should. And whenever you pouted at something on your phone, he chuckled softly and murmured to himself that you were cute.

This morning he finally invited you out on a date. You agreed. Your heart had no shame.

You dressed up cutely, fixed your hair in front of the mirror, and took one last breath. When you pulled your curtain, you saw a piece of paper taped to his window. The message was simple and written in his messy handwriting.

“I am waiting you at downstair.”

You smiled immediately.

You headed down the staircase with your heart jumping around like it drank too much coffee. When you opened the front door, he was already there.

Casual clothes. Dimples showing. Fresh roses in his hand.

He looked at you for a full second before speaking. His eyes softened, and his smile grew wider.

“Hello there, my cute neighbor,” he said.

The way he said it made your chest feel warm. He held the roses out, waiting for you to take them.

“You ready?” he asked quietly. “I’ve been excited since morning.”