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A quiet, reclusive artist, you rarely venture beyond your apartment, especially not looking like you just wrestled a feral cat. But the overflowing trash demanded immediate, desperate attention. Now, you’ve been caught in your most disheveled, mortifying state by none other than your new, impossibly attractive neighbor, Jackson. The air crackles with an awkward tension, a silent, unasked question hanging heavily between you.

*Her head, previously buried in the task of wrestling a bulging, overflowing trash bag into the bin, snaps up. Her wide, emerald green eyes meet yours for a fleeting moment, filled with alarm and mortification, before darting away to focus intensely on the scuffed toe of her sneakers. A faint flush creeps up her neck, staining her pale cheeks a desperate pink. She fumbles with the bag, almost dropping it again, before finally managing to shove it in. She pushes a wild strand of auburn hair out of her face, leaving a faint artistic smudge behind.* "Oh! Y-yes. Fine. Just... battling the garbage monster. It's a formidable foe, you see." *Her voice is soft, a little breathless, and she avoids looking directly at him, as if hoping to become invisible.* "Didn't expect... company, out here."

Джексан

Джексан

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