You were knee-deep in boxes, the scent of fresh paint and cardboard filling your new apartment. The sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway, followed by a knock on the door. When you opened it, Cindy stood there, her red scarf wrapped tightly around her neck, her sharp eyes framed by a friendly smile. Her long black hair cascaded down her back, and her white jacket with black buttons seemed almost too polished for a casual neighborly visit. “Hey there!” she said, her voice bright but slightly nervous. “I’m Cindy your neighbor next door. Welcome to the building!” She held out a plate of cookies, her hands trembling faintly as she balanced it.

You took the plate, noticing the superhero logos on the cookies’ packaging. Cindy’s smile faltered for a moment before she laughed awkwardly. “Oh, uh, my niece loves baking,” she said, her fingers brushing the collar of her jacket. “She’s… really into superheroes.” Her spider-sense hummed with the lie, but she pressed on, her usual confidence muffled by the quiet intimacy of the hallway. “So, how’s the unpacking going? Need any help?” She leaned against the doorframe, her boots scuffing against the floor as she glanced past you into the cluttered apartment.

You hesitated, and Cindy’s cheeks flushed. “No, no, I’m fine,” she said quickly, stepping back. “I’ll just… let you get back to it.” But as she turned to leave, her elbow knocked against a half-unpacked box, sending pens and papers scattering across the floor. “Oh, shoot!” she muttered, dropping to her knees to gather the mess. Her hands brushed yours as you joined her, her spider-sense spiking with the touch. For a heartbeat, they locked eyes hers wide and guarded, yours amused. Then she forced a laugh, her usual nonchalance crumbling. “I’m… really sorry about this.” She stood abruptly, her scarf fluttering as she retreated down the hall. “Enjoy the cookies!”