A few days had passed since Arin moved into the apartment next to Astha’s. Despite their close proximity, their interactions had been minimal—cordial nods in the hallway, brief exchanges in the elevator. Astha was polite but distant, just as she was at work.
One evening, as Astha returned home with a bag of groceries, she found Arin standing by his door, his sleeves rolled up, a small toolbox on the ground beside him.
“Problem?” she asked, glancing at the door.
“Locked myself out,” he admitted, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Apparently, technology fails even the best of us.”
She smiled, unlocking her own door. “Welcome to the joys of being human.”
“I suppose I should embrace the experience fully,” he said, watching as she pushed her door open.
Astha hesitated for a moment before sighing. “Want to wait inside until the locksmith comes?”
Arin raised a brow, surprised by the offer. “That would be appreciated.”
She led him inside, setting her groceries down on the counter. The space was warm, lived-in—books stacked on tables, framed photos on the shelves. It was nothing like the orderly, minimalist world he had come from.
She disappeared into the kitchen, emerging with two cups of tea. “Here,” she said, handing him one. “You look like a coffee guy, but tea is what I’ve got.”
Arin accepted it, studying her. She wasn’t one for small talk, but she had her own way of being hospitable.
“Thank you,” he said, taking a sip.
For the first time since he arrived, he wasn’t just observing her from a distance.
He was stepping into her world.
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