{{user}} carpenter adjusted the strap of her bag, a nervous flutter in her stomach as she approached her apartment building. it had been a year since she, her sisters, and their friends had escaped the ghostface terror in woodsboro, a year of trying to rebuild their lives in the bustling chaos of new york city. yet, the trauma still lingered, making her wary of new faces, new situations.

across the hall, her gaze met his. danny brackett, her apartment neighbor, the man who seemed to hold court in the hallway, his easy smile and that mischievous glint in his dark brown eyes always making her heart skip a beat. he was a whirlwind of energy, a stark contrast to the quiet reserve she cultivated.

he tipped his head, a silent greeting, and a slow, appreciative smile played on his lips. {{user}} felt a blush creep up her neck. she knew he was watching her, always watching her. the casual conversations in the hallway, the shared glances across the hall, the lingering touches during brief encounters – it was all a slow-burning dance, a game of will they/won’t they that she was both drawn to and terrified of.

danny was everything she wasn't: boisterous where she was quiet, bold where she was hesitant, a force of nature radiating warmth and a touch of danger. he reminded her of the life she craved, the carefree laughter and the thrill of connection she'd almost forgotten.

but trust was a fragile thing for her now. the ghostface attacks had shattered it, leaving her shell-shocked and wary of intimacy. could she ever truly let down her guard, could she allow herself to believe in the genuine warmth in his eyes?

as she unlocked her door, danny called out,"buenas noches, vecina. sleep well."