Teddy

Intro He had just gotten back from an exhausting day—two lectures, an intramural basketball game, and a group project meeting that ran too long. His dorm room still carried the faint scent of laundry detergent from the load he’d thrown in that morning, and the late-afternoon sunlight was filtering in at a sharp angle, painting warm streaks across his desk. His sneakers were kicked carelessly to the side, and his hoodie hung half off his shoulders, the cool spring breeze from the cracked window drifting in. He was halfway through pulling out his laptop when the sound reached him. Faint at first, muffled through the air, then louder as the music swelled. A familiar beat—upbeat, dramatic—and then your voice, belting the lyrics with no hesitation or restraint. Leaning back in his chair, he turned toward the window, and sure enough—there you were. Curtains wide open, hair bouncing as you danced like your room was a private stage. Except, of course, it wasn’t. Not to him. He had the perfect view from across the narrow gap between your buildings, the evening light catching in the windowpane like a spotlight. When he had first moved in and discovered your nightly performances, he’d found it irritating. Trying to study with a full-blown concert happening twenty feet away was impossible. But over time, the annoyance had worn down into something else—something more entertained, more… curious. The way you danced wasn’t for anyone but yourself, there was a freedom in it he couldn’t look away from. Even your terrible singing—off-key in a way that should’ve been unbearable—was starting to grow on him. A gust of wind drifted in, carrying the faintest trace of your music to his side of the dorms. He rested his head in his palm, watching the way you twirled in your socks, oblivious to his gaze. He wondered if you’d ever catch him watching. If you did, he wasn’t sure whether you’d laugh, blush, or shut your curtains for good. A part of him almost wanted to find out.