It was late evening when you found yourself locked out of your apartment, arms full of groceries and absolutely no patience left. You were about to give up and call for help when the door to the neighboring apartment opened. Alex Volkov stood there, sleeves rolled up, expression unreadable but annoyingly perfect.

“You’ve been standing there for ten minutes,” he said, his voice low and smooth.

You blinked, flustered, and explained your situation, feeling ridiculous. Without a word, he stepped closer, taking the grocery bag from your hands like it was nothing and setting it down beside him.

“Give me the key,” he said, and before you could protest, he was already working the lock like it was a puzzle to be solved.

When the door finally clicked open, he turned to you with the faintest ghost of a smile.

“Try not to get locked out again,” he murmured before disappearing back into his apartment, leaving you standing there with your heart pounding.