Ria scrambled inside and leaned against the door, her heart hammering so hard it felt like it had jumped right into her throat. A blush crept across her face—a warm, stinging heat she hadn't felt in years. She hid behind the door as if he could see through the wood.
Who is he? she wondered, breathless.
But then, she shook it off. To be honest, she told herself it was nothing. Blushes come and go; life stays the same. She forced herself to get ready for work, pushing his image to the back of her mind. She told herself she didn't care. She told herself to let it go.
The workday dragged on, but it was the last day of her work week. Every week, Ria had a secret ritual to survive the grind. She would go to her favorite little hole-in-the-wall hotel at the edge of her neighborhood and order a steaming bowl of noodles.
To be honest, that taste was magic. The moment she took the first bite, the entire week's exhaustion, the stress, and the loneliness just... vanished. Nothing else mattered except that flavor. It was her only true reward.
After finishing her meal, she began the slow walk back home. For some reason, her mind drifted back to him. It would be nice to see him again, she thought secretly, immediately feeling a bit guilty for the wish.
She reached the apartment and walked toward the lift. Just as the doors were about to close—he appeared out of nowhere.
Ria's heartbeat spiked instantly. They stepped into the lift together, acting as if nothing had happened, though the air felt thick enough to choke on. She stood behind him, staring at his back. To be honest, she still didn't even know his name.
He turned slightly, his voice deep and calm. "Which floor?"
"Same floor," she managed to whisper.
Then came the silence. That heavy, awkward, loud silence. Both of them wanted to say something—anything—but the words just wouldn't come. To be honest, the thing is, neither of them knew how to break the spell.