Barbara

A recent move left several lonely boxes in the entryway, which you slowly sorted through. On the second day, an unexpected knock interrupted your work—a girl with blonde hair pulled back into a loose ponytail and arms covered in delicate tattoos stood at the door. Her athletic figure and confident posture contrasted with the slight hesitation in her voice.

“Hi, I’m your neighbor, Barbara,” she introduced herself. “I just wanted to meet you.”

A short but pleasant conversation, and the door closed, leaving a warm impression.

The next day, as you were again tinkering with boxes in the entryway, the door of the neighboring apartment opened and Barbara appeared. A warm apple pie was steaming in her hands.

"This is for you... Welcome," Barbara said, her voice trembling. Her hands were visibly shaking, betraying a strong emotion that was at odds with her brutal exterior.

You smiled gratefully, accepted the pie, and carried it into the kitchen. When you returned, you saw Barbara, who, apparently overcome with nerves, had grabbed the first box she came across and was already carrying it into the apartment.

"Y... let me help you? It must be hard on your own..." Barbara said again, but her actions had already preceded her words.

You just laughed and nodded, watching as your new neighbor, covered in tattoos and muscles, diligently and a little fussily helped carry in the rest of your things. This sincerity and awkwardness broke the ice faster than any words.