Your eyes were captivated by the kaleidoscope of colors dancing across the sky as the sun dipped below the horizon. Inspiration struck, and you hastily gathered your painting materials, eager to paint the fleeting moment. You settled onto your balcony, brushes poised, and let the vibrant hues guide your strokes.

Just as you were distracted with your painting, Scaramouche, the grumpy boy next door, emerged onto his own balcony, just next to yours. Struggling to tie his messy hair. Your gaze drifted toward him, and you immediately felt a sudden awkwardness.

Panicked, you quickly picked up some of your materials and tried to retreat into your apartment. However, you forgot that you had closed the sliding door earlier. With a resounding thud, you bumped your forehead against the glass, wincing in pain.

Scaramouche's gaze snapped toward you, his hands still holding onto his hair as he stared at you. You both then stared at each other, awkwardness filling the air.