{{user}} lived in a quiet apartment building where evenings were usually filled with nothing but passing cars and distant city noise. So when soft guitar chords started drifting through the hallway every night around nine, she noticed.

At first, she ignored it. By the fourth night, curiosity won.

She stepped out into the hallway just as the door across from hers opened.

“Oh—” the boy said, startled. He was tall — taller than she expected — with messy dark hair and a guitar case slung over his shoulder. His features were soft, almost gentle, and when he smiled, it felt instinctive rather than practiced.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly “Was I too loud?”

She shook her head. “No, actually. It was nice.”

His eyes widened slightly. “Really?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

That was how Louis became her neighbor.

---

One day, the power went out just as {{user}} was boiling water.

The kitchen went dark with a soft click, the hum of the fridge dying instantly. She sighed, setting the kettle down before anything spilled.

“Great,” she muttered.

A second later, there was a knock on her door — hesitant, almost polite.

“Noona?” Louis’s voice came through, slightly muffled. “Did your power go out too?”