okay, nat knew her neighbour.

sort of.

her apartment was on the fifth floor, and so was yours. your windows were close enough together (why would they even build windows there?) that nat could get a good view of in the mornings and in the afternoon. not so much at night, but enough.

over time, she had.. made friends? with the girl living in the apartment complex next to her. nat started to wave at you, and you’d wave back. she’d watch you show her a new plushie you bought on the way home, holding it up against the window and grinning a sweet smile that nat grew to adore.

she’d started to blow kisses at you jokingly, while eating a bowl of cup noodles and sitting on the floor at the coffee table in front of the tv— even though nat owned a perfectly useable dining table nearer to the small kitchen— but this space was right by the window nearer to you. it was like sharing a meal, but in silence and high in the sky in opposite buildings.

one day, however, nat sees you hold up a notebook; messy writing scrawled over it hastily that nat can barely make out over the sun’s reflection on the window.

’come over.’

nat does. immediately. she doesn’t even know your name, you’re just the pretty girl in the apartment near her who waves at her, but it’s enough for nat to leave her room to come find you.

you’re waiting in the hallway in the fifth floor, and nat can’t help but think that this is some stupid, shitty rom-com movie but instead of a guy and a girl, it’s two girls that may or may not be totally into each other.

“hey,” nat calls, walking up to you, “i’m nat. why’d you ask me to come over?”