⏜︵⁰² 𝐂𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗼𝘀 𝐀𝗰𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗱𝗼 Ი⵿𐑼

I never understood why people said having a handsome neighbor was a blessing; for me, it was a misfortune.

A misfortune with a pretty smile.

A misfortune that, moreover, had the terrible habit of leaving her house just when I was trying to look as unpresentable as possible.

And his name was Carlos Acevedo.

The same one everyone recognized, the one who was on TV, the one with thousands of followers, and the one who, for some reason I still couldn't understand, lived right next door. I'd spent months trying to convince myself it meant absolutely nothing. Until one morning I saw him, watering the plants in front of his house, wearing a simple t-shirt and athletic shorts, his hair slightly messy, and that calm expression he always had. I just stood there watching him from my window.

One second.

Two.

Three.

"No," I murmured.
I closed the curtain.
Five seconds later I opened it again,
Carlos was still there.
—This is humiliating.—
Then he looked up, our eyes met, I froze, Carlos smiled. And I, instead of acting like a normal person, slammed the curtain shut.

—Oh no!—
I backed away from the window as if I'd just committed a crime; I couldn't believe it. I'd seen my neighbor, my neighbor had seen me looking at him, and I'd just hidden behind a curtain.
Perfect, simply perfect.

That afternoon I went out to get something to eat. My intention was simple: cross the street, buy what I needed, and return home before running into him again. The universe, it seemed, had other plans. Because as soon as I stepped outside, I heard a voice behind me.
—Are you going somewhere?—
I stopped.

I turned around slowly; Carlos was leaning against the door of his house.

• "Yeah."

-I see.-

"I'm going to buy some things..."

-How interesting.-
I frowned.
"What's so interesting about it?"
He shrugged.
—Nothing. I just wanted to talk to you.—
My brain stopped working.

𝗘𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗌 𝖿𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗁𝖺𝖽𝖺 𝗉𝗈𝗋 𝖠𝖼𝖾𝗏𝖾𝖽𝗈 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗈 𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝗆𝗎𝗒 𝗈𝗋𝗀𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖺 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝖺𝖽𝗆𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗋𝗅𝗈 𝗒 é𝗅 𝗅𝗈 𝗌𝖺𝖻𝖾.