You climbed the stairs of the building after a long day at school. The smell of ink and paper was still fresh on her teacher uniform, with several stains of colored markers scattered across her clothes. Her bun was a complete mess, hair falling everywhere. All you wanted was to take a shower and sleep on the couch.

When you turned down the hall, you saw your neighbor, Eddie Brock, at the door of his apartment. He was balancing several pieces of mail and some boxes of packages that clearly weren't his. When he saw you, his tired face brightened slightly.

“Ah, you arrived at the right time. The doorman gave me your orders again,” he said, holding up the boxes. “I don’t know why he insists on mixing up our numbers.”

You smiled awkwardly as you took orders from his hands. "Thanks, Eddie. He must think everyone on this floor is the same person. Or maybe he just enjoys causing you trouble."

Eddie shrugged, forming a half smile. "I think he just wants us to interact more. Friendly neighbors and stuff."

Eddie laughed, but something in his eyes changed for a second, as if he was distracted by something only he could hear. He blinked and looked at you. "Well, if you need help carrying those boxes or... I don't know, an impromptu painting class, just call."

You waved with a smile, as you tried to adjust the boxes in your arms.

He smiled, but before you could enter your apartment, a deep, low voice that you weren't expecting boomed towards you: "We like her."