Maya finally reached her newly bought apartment, shoulders aching from tiredness everything with Alina was so peaceful. she sighed in relief.
Just as she was about to unlock the door, her eyes landed on a neatly packed paper bag resting on the floor near her doorstep.
"Huh? I don't think I ordered something?" she murmured, tilting her head. She bent down, carefully lifting the bag as if it were a bomb. It was surprisingly heavy. Curiosity sparked. She peeped inside but quickly shut it again, lips pressing into a thin line.
"It's food? … a tiffin box?" this… this isn't mine.
No! Who does it belongs to ? the neighbor? she turned her head, glancing around here and there
What if they ordered dinner and the delivery guy dumped it here? she guessed it
She glanced at the door opposite to hers the mysterious new neighbor she hadn't met yet.
Her stomach growled in betrayal.
"Ugh, no, Maya. Control yourself. You can't just steal your neighbor's dinner on your very first day." She clutched the bag, pacing back and forth like she was debating a national security issue.
Finally, she stood in front of his door. The neighbor. Raised her hand.
And froze.
What if he thinks I'm a thief? who's trying to steal his food?
What if he's some grumpy uncle?
She lowered her hand, sighed, then raised it again.
Lowered.
Raised.
Lowered.
Like a malfunctioning robot.
Inside the apartment of the opposite neighbor, the guy who had been casually reading the book saw the shadow pacing in front of his door
His eyes narrowed.
What the? Someone's lurking outside my house at midnight?Are they trying to break in?
A thief?
Without thinking twice, he grabbed the nearest weapon that he could find a frying pan
He crept toward the door like a soldier ready for combat, every step exaggeratedly quiet.
Meanwhile, Maya was mumbling outside:
"Just knock, Maya. Just knock! It's just a human, not a dragon! You can do it."
She leaned closer to the door to listen if someone was awake inside.
BAM! The door flew open.
A Guy! Tall. Broad shoulders that filled the doorway like he was auditioning for a superhero role. Even with messy hair and sweatpants, he had that posture effortlessly upright, like his spine refused to slouch. His height alone gave him a natural advantage in their arguments; she had to tilt her head to meet his eyes, and he used that shamelessly.
"AHHH!" Maya shrieked, almost dropping the bag.
"AHHHH!" the neighbor yelled back, brandishing his frying pan like Thor's hammer.
They both froze.
"….Are you seriously holding a frying pan?"
"….Are you seriously sneaking around my door with a bag at midnight?" both said at the same time
The silence that followed was broken only by the sound of Maya's embarrassed laugh that came out as an awkward snort.
"This… uh, bag was in front of my door. I thought maybe it was yours." She shoved it forward like evidence.
The neighbor eyed her suspiciously, lowering his pan slowly.
"…You were rehearsing a speech outside my door for ten minutes."
Maya turned red. "You HEARD that!?"
He raised an eyebrow. "The whole building heard that."
Maya wished the ground would swallow her alive.
The neighbor's eyes widened. "Wait. That's not mine."
Maya blinked. "Not yours?"
He shook his head. "Then… whose is it?"
And just like that, both of them were staring at each other, the frying pan still between them, the mysterious bag dangling like a ticking bomb.
People always say if you want to buy a house, check the walls, the plumbing, the wiring, the water supply, and whether the lift works or not. But Maya, standing at her neighbor's door with a bag in her hand, realized one crucial detail no one ever mentioned.
The most important thing to check before buying a house… is the neighbor.
Because if she had known this frying-pan warrior lived next door, she'd have run ten miles away. Maya crossed her arms, glaring at him. "If I had known I'd have such a neighbor, I would have NEVER bought this apartment!"
He didn't miss a beat. "And if I had known the owner was going to sell the flat to a midnight thief, I'd have told him to reject your application."
Maya gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. "Thief? Do you see me holding crowbars or lock picks? This is literally a bag of food!"
He raised an eyebrow, leaning casually on his frying pan like it was an Olympic medal. "Exactly. You were going to steal dinner. That's even worse."
Her eyes widened. "Excuse me!? Do I look like the kind of person who steals pasta??"
He smirked. "More like the jelly bean type."
Her jaw dropped. "HOW DARE—"
Before she could finish roasting him alive, the door at the end of the corridor swung open. A sleepy man in pajamas shuffled toward them, hair sticking up like a bird's nest. Without even greeting, he snatched the bag from Maya's hands.
"How much longer were you both going to argue? My dinner was getting cold!" he scolded, hugging the bag protectively like a long-lost child. Then, yawning, he trudged back to his apartment and slammed the door shut.
The corridor went silent.
Maya blinked. The neighbor blinked.
And then
She pointed at him with fire in her eyes. "SEE! you accused me of theft!"
He swung the frying pan onto his shoulder with a grin. "Well, you still looked suspicious. Midnight speeches outside my door? Suspicious behavior 101."
"Ugh! I should have listened to my mom and stayed single forever!" Maya muttered, storming back to her flat.
From behind, he called, "Don't worry, Miss Thief. I'll keep my frying pan ready in case you try to 'borrow' my breakfast tomorrow!"
Her door slammed shut so hard that even the frying pan flinched.
The universe had blessed Ryan with only one simple wish in life peaceful sleep
But now that Maya had moved into the apartment opposite his… peace packed its bags and ran away.
First, she tested her new speaker. At full volume. At midnight. With some Taylor Swift song. The walls practically vibrated with Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone? . Ryan tossed and turned in his bed, muttering, "Romeo better come and take her away right now…"
Second, she dropped a steel spoon. Then another. Then the entire set of utensils. It sounded like a wrestling match between pots and pans.
Third, she started laughing. Alone. Loud. Like a villain rehearsing for a horror film. "Hahaha—HAHAHAHA!" Ryan nearly had a heart attack, wondering if his neighbor was possessed.
Fourth, she turned on her hair dryer. At 1:30 A.M. The sound echoed through the corridor like a helicopter was landing in his living room. That was it. Ryan's patience broke.
He dragged himself out of bed, hair messy, eyes half closed, face screaming let me sleep or I'll die. He stomped across the hall and rang her bell.
A quiet apartment building that doesn't remain quite as Ms. Maya shifted. During midnight where in One unit Ms. Maya blasts songs in her new speakers ''Lover story'' by Taylor Swift while she dances around in fuzzy socks, flipping pancakes at 1:40 AM because midnight carbs fix everything
Next door, Mr. Ryan tall, sharp jawline permanently clenched has been awake since 11 PM thanks to the bass thumping through his bedroom wall like it's auditioning for a club. What's the thing that he didn't tried whether its Earplugs ? cotton ? Texting building management but unfortunately they didn't response
His patience finally snapped, and he got up from his bed . He throws off the blanket, storms out in sweatpants
Knock knock KNOCK.
The door swung open.
Ryan stood tall in the corridor's dim yellow light, his broad shoulders filling the doorway. His dark hair was messy from tossing in bed, yet it somehow managed to look intentional, like a magazine ad. His jawline looked like it had been sculpted with irritation, sharp and clenched tight, and his stormy grey eyes still heavy with sleep narrowed at her as though she'd personally declared war on his rest.
Maya, meanwhile, looked like a chaos fairy caught red-handed. Fuzzy grey socks. An oversized t-shirt with "Sarcasm Loading…" printed across the front. Hair clipped up in the messiest bun known to mankind, with one rebellious strand hanging over her nose. She still held the spatula in one hand like a microphone.
Standing opposite each other in the corridor, they looked like a sketch of opposites. Maya, smaller but brighter, her expressions changing like a thousand fireworks. Ryan, taller, steady like a stone wall but one that occasionally cracked to reveal something sharp, witty, and annoyingly smug.
And maybe that's why the frying pan moment lingered in both their minds far longer than it should have. Not because of the misunderstanding, not because of the bag of food but because it was the first time they'd really seen each other, shadows and light, chaos and control.
Ryan exhaled, voice flat and low.
"Do you… usually host a rave in the midnight ?"
Maya blinked. Then grinned, completely unbothered. "No rave. Just pancakes." She raised the spatula in proof, as if it were a peace treaty. "Would you like one?"
His expression didn't change. "Would I....WHAT? No. I would like sleep."
"Ohhh." She tilted her head, pretending to think. "Pancakes help with that, you know. Midnight carbs, instant happiness, sweet dreams guaranteed." she was trying to convince him
Ryan just stared at her. Deadpan. As though her words required subtitles he wasn't willing to read.
The silence stretched, heavy and awkward.
Until Maya leaned against the doorframe, beaming at him, her eyes tracing his tired but striking features. She thought to herself: God, he's gorgeous. Like… unfairly gorgeous.
Like 'protagonist of an enemies-to-lovers K-drama' level gorgeous.
Ryan cleared his throat, dragging her back. "Look...whatever… pancake therapy you're running in there, can you turn it down? Some of us actually try to sleep at night."
"Some of us," she echoed dramatically, clutching her chest like he'd just insulted humanity. Then she gave him a playful wink. "You're kind of grumpy, aren't you? But it's okay. Grumpy suits you."
His brows furrowed. "Excuse me?"
But Maya was already stepping closer, lowering her voice in mock seriousness. "You know… you're my first official neighbor here. Which means… destiny wanted me to meet you before anyone else."
Her grin widened. "So… neighbor. What's your name? I can't just keep calling you Frying-Pan Guy in my head forever."
Ryan rubbed his temple, sighing.
"Ryan."
''Ryan Bennett''
Maya repeated it softly, tasting the sound. "Ryan…" She liked how it rolled off her tongue. Simple. Strong. Perfect. She tucked the name away in her heart like it was already precious.
And for the first time since moving into the building, Maya realized something odd. Her new apartment wasn't just walls and furniture anymore. It was the place where she'd met Ryan
"Turn it OFF."
"Hmm?"
"The music. The noise. It's ONE A.M."
"Ohhh… are you my official silence enforcer?" Turns volume down slightly
''You wouldn't ask mine ? '' she said
''Not interested'' by saying that he left from there
Her breath caught for a moment . The words sank deeper than they should have, she couldn't find anything to say
''It's fine, even if you don't ask I know . deep down you want to know ''
''It's Maya''