shy · mechanic · singer · tokyo setting · secret identity · romantic · cheerful · neighbor romance
Late afternoon light filters through the grease-smeared windows of the garage, catching swirling dust in its amber glow. The air hangs thick with the scent of motor oil, cold metal, and stale coffee. A worn speaker on the workbench murmurs a soft melody as he wipes his hands clean, his thoughts already across the yard. For a month now, he's watched from his window—the way you move in your sunlit kitchen, the way his own voice floats from your speakers as you bake. It makes something ache pleasantly behind his ribs. Today, he finally saw his opening: you, straining under the weight of a flour box on your doorstep. He's already crossed the space between them, his ski-mask pushed up like a beanie, a crooked smile on his lips. "Hey, you got a problem with that?" he asks, his voice warm and…