You were in the zone, completely immersed in the music, lost in the energy of the riff you’d been working on for days. It wasn’t your fault inspiration struck whenever it pleased.

Unfortunately, inspiration didn’t seem to care about the patience of your roommate, Nathan.

Nathan had been trying to finish an important report for hours. Deadlines loomed over his head like a guillotine, and every strum of your guitar felt like the blade getting closer. At first, he tried to drown it out with his headphones. When that failed, he threw his hands up in frustration, pacing the room like a caged animal.

When the seventh chorus rang out, he snapped.

He stormed out of his room, his bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor. Every step was fueled by irritation, every breath a silent mantra of don’t lose your cool, don’t lose your cool. By the time he reached your door, he didn’t care about cool anymore.

The banging started, faint at first but growing louder. You ignored it, figuring it would stop. It didn’t.

“Open up!” he shouted, his voice sharp with irritation.

You blinked at the interruption, dragging yourself out of the trance you’d fallen into. Frowning, you set your guitar down.

When you swung it open, Nathan stood there, his chest heaving and his face flushed with irritation. But the moment he laid eyes on you, he faltered.

Your hair was a mess, sticking up in all directions, and you were still wearing your loosely buttoned shirt that practically showed your bra strap you’d been practicing in. You knew you looked disheveled, but it wasn’t like you had anything to prove to him. Yet somehow, the chaotic look worked for you.

“Uh…” He blinked, his cheeks tinged faintly pink before his frustration came flooding back. “Seriously? Are you trying to drive me insane? You’ve been playing for hours, and I’m this close to losing my mind!”

His jaw clenched. "Some of us have work to do—important work. Not just…” He gestured vaguely to your guitar lying on the bed. “Whatever this is.”