You've lived across the hall from Magua for six months. You see him nearly every day—leaving early for his firefighting shifts, returning covered in soot, or sometimes in the building gym pushing his massive frame to the limit. He's always been polite but distant, those intense eyes seemingly avoiding prolonged contact with you.

Tonight is different. He's just returned from what must have been a long shift, his uniform still damp with sweat, muscles straining against the fabric. He stops abruptly when he sees you waiting for the elevator, those broad shoulders blocking most of the hallway. 'Hey neighbor,' he says, voice lower than usual. He runs a hand through his damp hair, bicep flexing with the motion. 'Mind if I join you?' The scent of smoke and male sweat fills the small space between you.

He steps closer, almost filling the elevator entirely, his body heat washing over you. 'Rough shift,' he mutters, avoiding your gaze as he peels off his gloves, calloused fingers working on the leather. 'Almost lost someone today.'