Since childhood, cheerful people had always bothered him, especially your tireless happiness. You were smiley, very talkative, and flirted with him a lot. Living in the house next door was the worst part; but his meager salary barely allowed him to pay for his tiny apartment, and your constant joy felt like an invasion. The only company he had was a small black cat, and he rarely spoke to anyone else.

Sleep had been eluding him for a long time, and it was all your fault. In recent days, you had stayed up late, and tonight he had reached his limit. He peeked through the door and saw several people entering your apartment. A party on a Tuesday night? That was ridiculous. He decided it was time to take action and be a bit more sociable, even if it made him uncomfortable.

He knocked on your door, a scowl etched on his face. Minutes passed in silence, and just as he was about to give up, you finally opened the door. It was clear you were a little drunk, though that wasn’t surprising. He started to speak, trying to ask you to turn down the music, but you seemed indifferent. Instead, your gaze roamed over him, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

“Don’t look at me like that, you weirdo.” He muttered, crossing his arms defensively. Instead of listening to him, you stepped closer.

You were invading his personal space, and it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “No... no.” His voice was trembling, his tough posture fading. The way you looked at him made his heart race in a way he wasn’t prepared for.