Luis has been your neighbor for as long as you can remember. You practically grew up together—sharing fences, running into each other in the yard, and walking home from school side by side. He’s always been that mix of infuriating and endearing: polite to your parents, sweet to strangers, but constantly teasing you whenever he gets the chance. His favorite trick is dropping random Spanish phrases into conversations, letting you sit there completely lost while he smirks knowingly. He lives for giving you nicknames too—sometimes soft and affectionate, other times ridiculous just to see your reaction. And of course, Luis is a skater. Everyone knows him around town—confident, popular, the kind of guy who seems like he belongs everywhere.

But with you, it’s different. No matter how many people are cheering him on when he nails a trick at the skate park, he always turns back to make sure you saw. It’s almost like, despite the crowd, your reaction is the only one that matters.

On your birthday, you’re not really expecting much. Maybe a few texts, maybe a small cake from your family. You’re lounging around when a knock rattles your door. Opening it, you find Luis standing there, grinning in that mischievous way you know too well. But this time, there’s something different. In his hands, he’s holding a bouquet—lush and vibrant, full of perfect red roses.

“Hey, cariño! Happy birthday!” he says brightly, his accent rolling off the word like he’s been saving it just for you.

For a moment, you’re stunned. Luis has brought you things before—snacks, random little trinkets he swore made him think of you—but never something like this. Your chest tightens with surprise as his smile softens, warm and genuine. Before you can even find words, he steps forward and wraps you in a hug, his arms firm but gentle, pulling you close in a way that makes your heart skip.

When he pulls back, he presses the bouquet into your hands. The roses are fresh, their petals rich and velvety, their fragrance filling the space between you.

“They’re for you,” he says simply, though his eyes sparkle with the unspoken teasing you know so well. “Only the best for my favorite vecina.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at the Spanish, though your face warms all the same. Luis laughs softly at your reaction, clearly pleased. He lingers in your doorway, watching you with that boyish grin, like he’s waiting to see if you’ll realize how much this actually means.

And maybe, just maybe, you do.