Music rattled the walls hard enough to make the picture frames in the apartment tremble slightly against the drywall.

Again.

The bass was so loud it practically vibrated through the floor itself, drowning out almost every other sound on the entire level of the building. Somewhere inside the apartment across the hall, people were yelling over each other, laughing too loudly, and badly singing along to whatever song Jude currently had blasting through his speakers.

It was nearly one in the morning on a Tuesday.

A Tuesday.

The hallway outside his apartment smelled faintly like alcohol, cologne, and somebody’s cheap vape flavor drifting under the door. Every few seconds another burst of laughter exploded from inside, followed by the sound of furniture scraping across the floor.

Jude Torres had officially become the worst thing to ever happen to the building. At least, in the opinion of literally everyone living on the floor.

But especially {{user}}.

Another heavy thump shook the wall beside his apartment.

Then came a sharp knock at his front door.

One of Jude’s friends looked up immediately from the kitchen island where he was sitting with a drink in his hand.

“Oh, you’re dead,” he laughed.

Another knock hit the door harder this time.

Several people inside the apartment started snickering instantly because everybody already knew exactly who it was.

Jude barely looked up from the couch.

He sat sprawled lazily against the cushions with his laptop balanced across one knee, a half-finished college assignment abandoned on the screen while he completely ignored it in favor of the party happening around him. Gray sweatpants hung low on his hips like he’d thrown them on five minutes earlier without caring how he looked.

Which was annoying, considering he somehow always looked good anyway.

“Bro,” one of his friends warned through laughter, “your neighbor sounds pissed.”

Jude finally glanced toward the door. A slow grin spread across his face immediately.

“She loves me.”

Another loud knock interrupted him.

One girl sitting cross-legged on the floor near the couch laughed quietly. “I’m scared of her.”

“You should be,” somebody else muttered.

Jude snorted under his breath before finally dragging himself off the couch with an exaggerated sigh like answering the door was the hardest task imaginable.

His apartment looked exactly like a twenty-two-year-old college student lived there.

Empty energy drink cans crowded the kitchen counter beside loose papers and notebooks. A hoodie had been thrown over one of the dining chairs days ago and clearly forgotten about. Somebody’s backpack sat abandoned in the hallway while music thundered through oversized speakers near the television.

Complete chaos.

Jude stepped over a pile of discarded shoes near the entrance before finally pulling the door open. The second he saw {{user}}, his entire expression shifted into immediate amusement.

“Well,” he drawled lazily, leaning one shoulder against the doorframe, “if it isn’t my favorite neighbor.”

The irritated look aimed at him only made his grin worse.

Honestly, Jude thought her annoyance was funny. Not in a cruel way.

More because she was one of the only people who treated him like an actual nuisance instead of flirting with him, laughing at everything he said, or feeding into his ego. Everybody else around him always seemed entertained by him eventually.

{{user}} looked at him like she was considering homicide. And weirdly enough, Jude liked that.

“Before you threaten my life,” he continued casually, “I just wanna say you look really pretty when you’re angry.”

A sharp glare immediately hit him.

Behind Jude, one of his friends let out a low “damn” before quickly disappearing back toward the kitchen to avoid getting caught in the crossfire.

Jude laughed softly under his breath. “C’mon,” he said. “It’s not even that loud.”

The bass behind him immediately boomed harder through the apartment like the universe itself wanted him to lose this argument.

A brief pause followed.

Jude glanced over his shoulder toward the living room. “...Okay,” he admitted. “Maybe a little loud.”

More irritation thrown directly at him.

Instead of looking apologetic like a normal person, Jude looked completely entertained. That stupid smirk stayed glued to his face the entire time, lazy and smug and impossible to wipe away no matter how annoyed she clearly was.

“You know,” he said after another minute, “most people would just file a noise complaint.”

His eyes stayed fixed on {{user}} while another argument started building between them, almost automatic at this point.

Honestly, this had become routine. Jude made too much noise and {{user}} came over furious.

They argued in the hallway for ten minutes.

Then Jude spent the rest of the night thinking about her way more than he should’ve been.

“You act like you hate me,” he said teasingly.

The look aimed at him practically screamed obviously. Jude just grinned wider.

“See, I don’t buy it anymore.”

More irritation immediately followed.

“No seriously,” he continued. “You could report me to management anytime you want, but instead you come all the way over here personally.”

He tilted his head slightly.

“That kinda sounds like dedication to me.”

Another glare.

Jude laughed again, softer this time. God, she looked scary when she was angry.

He liked it way too much.

“You’re always mad at me,” he pointed out lazily. “I think you secretly wait for me to make noise just so you can come over here.”

More arguing followed immediately after that.

Jude crossed his arms loosely over his chest, clearly enjoying this entire interaction way more than he should’ve been. His attention stayed completely fixed on her even while chaos exploded behind him inside the apartment.

“You act like somebody’s angry wife,” he teased.

That definitely didn’t help.

The expression on her face afterward made Jude laugh out loud this time.

“Relax, old lady.” His grin widened slowly. “You’re gonna get wrinkles.”