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It was well past 10:00 pm, and Megan was finally lying in bed. She was completely ready to just lounge around and lose herself in her favorite shows when, out of nowhere, a low, vibrating bass rattled through her walls.

It was her neighbor, Y/N, blasting music at a shockingly loud volume for this time of night. At first, Megan tried to endure it, hoping it was just a passing phase. Instead, it devolved into twenty minutes of excruciating torture as the same Bad Bunny song played on an agonizing loop—accompanied by Y/N loudly screaming the lyrics.

Megan had lived in Apartment 4B for two years, accustomed to the quiet, predictable rhythm of her hallway. That rhythm was completely disrupted six months ago when Y/N moved into 4C.

Their first meeting wasn't exactly romantic. Megan had been struggling to drag a massive, flat-packed vanity mirror up the narrow stairwell when she heard a cheerful, slightly breathless voice behind her: "Need a hand, or are you planning on making that mirror a permanent stair feature?"

That was Y/N. She had just spent the last four hours hauling heavy boxes of books along with her other stuff into her new place, yet she still had the energy to effortlessly grab the other end of Megan’s box, flashing a warm, easygoing grin that made Megan’s chest tighten in a way she hadn't anticipated.

Since that day, they had settled into a comfortable friendship. They weren't best friends who texted every day, but they were far more than strangers. They knew each other's schedules; Y/N knew Megan had late-night dance rehearsals, and Megan knew Y/N was prone to sudden, late-night bursts of energy. They shared quick, lingering chats by the mailboxes, held the elevator doors for one another, and exchanged sleepy, soft smiles when they crossed paths in the mornings.

For six months, there had been a quiet, unspoken gravity pulling them together. Megan had spent countless nights wondering if the extra-long eye contact they shared in the lobby meant something, or if she was just projecting.

But tonight, as the clock ticked past 10:00 pm, Megan’s patience—and her secret crush—were about to be put to the test.

Deciding she had finally had enough, Megan sat up, threw off her covers, and marched out of her apartment to confront her neighbor.

Standing in front of Y/N’s door, she raised her fist and knocked loudly.

Thud, thud.

Nothing.

Her annoyance spiking, she hammered against the wood again—three angry, heavy knocks. Suddenly, the music cut off, and the door swung open.

Megan opened her mouth, ready to give Y/N a piece of her mind, but the words immediately caught in her throat. Standing in front of her was a very sweaty, very out-of-breath Y/N.

After a few seconds of heavy silence, Y/N blinked and cleared her throat. "Uhhh... hey, Megan?"

Megan snapped out of her daze, her fiery, confrontational energy instantly evaporating. "H-hey, Y/N. I... I was just wondering if you could please turn the music down?"

"Of course! Have I been bothering you, Megan?" Y/N asked, pulling the collar of her shirt up to wipe the sweat from her face—completely oblivious to the fact that she was showing off a stark view of her abs.

"Oh? No, no! You h-haven't, I just..." Megan’s voice trailed off. Her eyes helplessly raked up and down Y/N’s frame before she desperately tried to pivot. "...I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing?"

"Oh, I'm doing fine," Y/N smiled.

You certainly are, Megan thought, her brain short-circuiting.

"I’ve just been working out, is all." Y/N turned slightly, giving Megan a clear view into her apartment. There wasn't much to see—just a yoga mat laid out on the living room floor, the faint glow of the TV illuminating the space alongside a blinking Bluetooth speaker.

Suddenly, Y/N slapped her own forehead. "Oh! I'm so stupid. Would you like to come in?"

"Oh, that’s really not—see, I just wanted to see how you were... and—"

"No, no, Megan, please come in!" Y/N insisted, swinging the door wide open to invite her inside before walking over to flick on the overhead lights, instantly brightening the room.

"Could I get you something to drink, Megan? Tea, coffee?" Y/N offered warmly.

Megan stood in the middle of the living room, hovering awkwardly for a moment as she waited for an invitation to sit.

"Megan, please, take a seat," Y/N added quickly, gesturing toward the couch. "I'm just going to change out of these sweaty clothes, and I'll be right back with you."

"Thanks," Megan smiled politely, sitting down on the couch.

As soon as Y/N disappeared into her bedroom, Megan’s eyes began to wander around the apartment.

She immediately noticed a theme: hanging prominently on the walls were several intricate Formula 1 LEGO cars, surrounded by a bunch of other F1-related collection

Damn, she must be obsessed, Megan thought to herself, amused.

A minute later, Y/N emerged from her room in fresh clothes. Spotting Megan staring intently at the walls, she followed her line of sight straight to the LEGO sets and let out a self-conscious chuckle.

"Oh, those? I, uh... I'm not quite as obsessed with F1 as I was maybe two years ago," Y/N admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. "But I still follow the updates and watch the races."

"Ah! For a second there, I thought you were a total sports fanatic," Megan laughed softly. "You have so many of them on your walls, anyone would think that."

"Yeah, it’s a bit much, isn't it?" Y/N smiled, looking at the display. "People found out about my brief hyperfixation and just absolutely ran with it. For a while, every Christmas and birthday, I’d just get flooded with F1 stuff. Honestly, though, I'm grateful. Those LEGO sets are expensive!"

Y/N offered Megan a glass of water before sinking into the couch, leaving a respectful amount of space between them. She threw an arm over the back of the cushions, lounging comfortably as she tilted her head. "So... you sure you just came over here to check on me?"

Megan blinked, her brain momentarily stalling. She shook her head slowly. "No..." Then, correcting herself, she gave a quick nod. "Yes?"

Finally, she let out a defeated sigh and confessed, "Honestly, Y/N, I came over here to yell at you for blasting your speaker. It is almost eleven o'clock, for Christ's sake."

Y/N let out a low chuckle at the honest confession, not looking bothered at all. "I honestly didn't realize it was that loud. I was just way too in the zone to notice. I'm really sorry, Megan," she said, softening her expression and turning on her best, most persuasive puppy-dog eyes.

Leaning in just a fraction closer, Y/N asked, "What can I do to make it up to you?"

Megan’s breath hitched. In the quiet of the apartment, the space between them suddenly felt incredibly small.

Y/N was still damp from her shower, smelling faintly of clean soap and warmth. From this close, Megan couldn't help but notice the way Y/N’s collarbone caught the soft light of the room, or how her eyes had darkened just a fraction, suddenly looking a lot less playful and a lot more intense.

"I, uh..." Megan started, but her voice was barely a whisper. She swallowed hard, her gaze helplessly slipping down to Y/N’s lips, then further down, noticing a subtle, prominent print beneath the soft fabric of Y/N's sweatpants before her eyes darted frantically back up to meet Y/N's.

A sudden, fierce blush flared across Megan's cheeks.

Just say something smart. Anything, Megan’s brain screamed, her pulse racing. But her body wasn’t listening. Instead, she found herself unconsciously leaning in, drawn to the quiet, magnetic heat radiating off the other girl.

Y/N’s eyes tracked the movement. The lazy grin on her face slowly faded, replaced by a sudden, heavy stillness. She didn't pull away. If anything, Y/N tilted her head slightly, her eyes dropping to Megan’s mouth in return. The arm Y/N had draped over the back of the couch shifted, her fingers lightly brushing against the very edge of Megan's shoulder.

Megan felt the light touch of Y/N’s fingers on her shoulder like a spark to dry kindling. Her skin tingled where they connected, her breath shuddering as she tried—and failed—to keep her composure.

Y/N didn’t move her hand away. Instead, her thumb slowly, deliberately traced a tiny circle against the fabric of Megan’s shirt. The movement was agonizingly slow, matching the heavy, quiet rhythm of the room.

"Megan," Y/N murmured again, her voice incredibly soft, almost a secret between the two of them. "You're really quiet."

"I'm..." Megan’s voice cracked slightly. She cleared her throat, trying to find her footing, but looking into Y/N’s dark eyes made it impossible to think. "I'm just... waiting to hear how you're going to make it up to me."

A faint, breathless smirk touched Y/N’s lips, though her eyes remained intensely focused on Megan’s. She leaned in just a fraction of an inch closer, close enough that Megan could feel the soft exhale of Y/N’s breath against her own lips.

"Well," Y/N whispered, her gaze dropping back down to Megan’s mouth before slowly rising to lock eyes again. "I have a few ideas. But I want to make sure we're on the same page first."

The sheer boldness of the look made Megan’s heart do a violent flip. Every instinct telling her to play it safe, to go back to her apartment and watch her shows, evaporated into thin air. She didn't want to leave. She wanted to lean forward, to bridge the tiny, excruciating gap left between them, and find out exactly what Y/N was thinking.

Unconsciously, Megan’s hand reached out, her fingers resting gently against Y/N’s knee, feeling the warm, solid heat of her leg beneath the fabric of her sweatpants.

Y/N let out a soft, sharp intake of breath at the touch, her eyes widening just a fraction before darkening with a sudden, fierce intensity. The playful teasing was entirely gone, replaced by a raw, magnetic pull that threatened to snap the last of Megan’s restraint.

The air in the room grew thick, almost suffocatingly warm. With her hand resting on Y/N’s knee, Megan felt the sudden, tight flex of the muscle beneath the fabric of the sweatpants.

Y/N didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned in even closer, her chest rising and falling in shallow, heavy breaths. The scent of her soap—clean, sharp, and laced with the natural warmth of her skin—seemed to fill Megan’s senses, making her head spin.

"Megan..." Y/N whispered, her voice a low, gravelly vibration that sent a violent shiver straight down Megan's spine.

Y/N’s hand on Megan's shoulder slid upward. Her warm fingers gently brushed against the side of Megan’s neck, her thumb resting right along Megan’s jawline. The heat of her palm was intoxicating. Y/N’s gaze dropped, lingering heavily on Megan's lips, then slid down the column of her throat before lifting back up to lock eyes.

"If you don't want this," Y/N murmured, her thumb lightly tracing the line of Megan’s jaw, "you need to tell me to stop. Right now."

Megan’s lips parted, but no words came out. Her heart was hammering so hard against her ribs she was certain Y/N could feel the pulse jumping under her fingertips. She didn't want to stop.

Every logical thought about her comfortable bed, her quiet apartment, and her favorite shows had been completely incinerated by the quiet, heavy tension radiating between them.

Instead of speaking, Megan let her eyes do the talking. She slowly slid her hand up Y/N’s thigh, her fingers tightening slightly on the fabric.

A quiet, low groan escaped Y/N’s throat at the gesture. The last shred of Y/N’s easygoing patience seemed to snap. Closing the final, agonizing inch between them, Y/N tilted Megan’s chin up, her lips hovering mere millimeters away from Megan’s, letting their warm breath mingle in the dark space between them.

The next morning, when she was met by the sun's bright light, it almost felt like a personal attack.

Megan sat on her bed, staring blankly at the wall. Her body was a mix of comfortable exhaustion and sheer, buzzing disbelief. She had actually done it. She had walked back across the hallway in the early hours of the morning—a quiet, breathless "walk of shame" that consisted of exactly ten paces, but felt like a mile under the hallway's fluorescent lights.

Now, she was sitting in the corner of the dance studio, stretching her hamstrings while trying to ignore the subtle ache in her muscles. The bass of the studio speakers hadn’t even started pumping yet, but her mind was already loud.

"Okay, spill," Sophia said, dropping her gym bag with a heavy thud right next to Megan. She sat down, crossing her legs, her sharp eyes immediately picking up on Megan's uncharacteristic quietness. "You’ve been staring at your shoelaces for ten minutes, Megs. What happened?"

Within seconds, the rest of the group drifted over. Dani slid down against the mirror, taking a long sip from her water bottle, while Lara sat on Megan's other side, elbowing her playfully. Manon and Yoonchae, who had been practicing a floor routine in the center, walked over, instantly sensing the shift in the room's energy.

"Did you actually go and fight the neighbor?" Dani asked, a grin tugging at her lips. "Because you text-spammed us at around 10 pm complaining about Bad Bunny, and then... absolute radio silence."

"Yeah, did you throw her speaker out the window?" Sophia teased, leaning over Lara's shoulder. "We were waiting for updates!"

Megan let out a breathy, embarrassed laugh, her cheeks immediately flaring with a bright pink blush. She buried her face in her hands. "Oh my god. No. I didn't throw the speaker."

"Wait..." Manon’s eyes widened, a slow, knowing smile spreading across her face. She leaned forward. "Megan. What did you do?"

"I went over there," Megan muttered, her voice muffled by her hands. She peeked out through her fingers at her friends, who were now staring at her with rapt, undivided attention. "I knocked. I was so ready to scream at her. And then the door opened..."

"And?" Sophia prompted, practically vibrating with impatience.

"And she was... sweaty," Megan whispered, the memory of Y/N’s damp collarbone and the soft fabric of her sweatpants flashing vividly in her mind. "She’d been working out. She wiped her face with her shirt and... guys, she has abs. Like, abs abs."

"Oh, no," Lara groaned dramatically, throwing her head back with a laugh. "And I'm guessing you forgot what you came for?"

"I did!" Megan defended herself, her voice pitching up. "She invited me in for water, and then she went to change, and we started talking about her F1 LEGOs, and then she sat on the couch..."

"Wait, back up," Dani interrupted, pointing a finger at her. "You went over to complain about noise at eleven at night, and ended up sitting on her couch discussing LEGOs?"

"It gets worse," Megan said, her heart doing a familiar, fluttering flip just talking about it. "She apologized—if you had seen the way she did it, you would give in too—and asked how she could make it up to me. And then she leaned in. And she smelled like soap. And... you know." Megan trails off.

Lara gasped, clutching Sophia’s arm. "You didn't."

"I did," Megan groaned, her blush deepening until it reached her ears. "I looked at her, and she saw me looking."

The studio exploded into a chorus of hushed squeals and dramatic gasps. Sophia slapped the floor, Manon covered her mouth in shock, and Dani almost choked on her water.

"Megan!" Lara squeaked, shaking her shoulder. "What did you do?!"

"She told me if I wanted her to stop, I had to tell her," Megan whispered, her eyes shining as she recounted the sheer heat of the moment. "But I didn't want her to stop. I put my hand on her leg... and, well, I didn't end up going back to my apartment until like, 4:00 am."

Sophia stared at her, completely dumbfounded, before a proud grin broke across her face. "You went over there for a noise complaint and became the noise complaint. I am genuinely inspired."

"Would've been the shortest walk of shame in human history," Manon laughed, shaking her head. "Literally just walking across the hall."

"But is she going to blast the music again tonight?" Lara asked with a mischievous wink. "Because if so, I think you need to go 'complain' again."