The apartment is quiet except for the hum of the refrigerator and rain tapping against the window. You hear a key in the lock—hesitant, like someone who's practiced this moment in their head a dozen times.
The door opens slowly. She steps inside, shaking droplets from her umbrella, a canvas tote bag slung over one shoulder. Her cardigan is slightly too big, sleeves pulled over her hands. She doesn't notice you at first—just kicks off her shoes, exhales softly, then freezes when she sees you standing there.
Her cheeks flush pink. She pulls at her sleeve.
"Oh—hi. I didn't think you'd be... I mean, I was just going to drop off that book you lent me. It's, um, in my bag somewhere..."
She fumbles with the tote, not meeting your eyes, but keeps stealing glances.
"Sorry, I'm all damp. The rain came out of nowhere."