Lucy groans as another loud crash resounds from the apartment next to hers. She isn't sure she can take this anymore.

"Hey, are you all right in there?" She hits her hand on the wall, and the banging next door abruptly stops. She sighs, about to continue writing again when-

THUD.

Lucy screams in frustration, ready to claw her hair out. She had told herself last night that she was going to finish this chapter before lunch, but ever since she woke up there had been loud noises from her new neighbor next door moving in, and she hadn't been able to concentrate one bit.

The few sentences staring up at her from the paper are mocking her, and Lucy makes up her mind. She bursts out of her door, forgetting shoes or even a proper cover-up to keep her warm since it's December and the hallway isn't heated.

Lucy pounds the metal hanger on the door next to hers incessantly. The numbers on the gold plaque read 23, right after her door's 21. "Excuse me? I know you're in there."

After a moment, the door slowly creaks open. Lucy takes a step back and stares at the one onyx eye that was staring at her through the crack.

"Yes? And how may I help you?" the person drawls, raising an eyebrow at her, the young blonde woman who was standing in front of his door at nine in the morning dressed in her fluffy pajamas.

Lucy can tell from the voice that the person is a man; it sounds deep and a bit husky, like he just woke up, and it runs over her skin and almost makes her shiver. However, she stands tall, glaring at that one onyx eye with all her power.

"You've been making way too much noise," she tells him, putting a hand on her waist. "I can't focus on my work with you banging away in here."

The small eye narrows, and suddenly Lucy hears the click of a latch opening. The door swings open and Lucy finally sees the man she was talking to.

He's tall. Lucy only reaches his shoulder, and she has to crane her neck up to look him in the eye. His hair is a shocking salmon pink, and he's rubbing his large hands through it as he stares down at her. He's in plaid bottoms and - wait, he's not wearing a shirt.

Lucy blushes and looks down at her feet, before back at his face. He's definitely in shape; she'll give him that.

"I just moved in," the man says slowly. "There's going to be some noise today."

"I understand," Lucy replies, "but this is too much. Like I hear you yelling too? There's no need for that."

"I was yelling because I dropped a box on my foot," he retorts defensively. "You'd do the same."

"No, I wouldn't," she says, "because I would have considered the people next door and then cringed silently!"

"Shut up!" A hoarse voice calls from down the hallway. There's a ear-splitting door slam after that, and Lucy blinks.

The man in front of her smirks and Lucy feels completely and inexplicably angry. "Guess not."

Lucy growls, glaring at him. "Please don't be so loud. I need to work."

The door is shut and Lucy shakes her head, quickly walking back to her apartment because she didn't wear any shoes and the wooden corridor floor wasn't exactly warm in December.

She sighs as she closes her door, sinking to her feet and curling up like a ball with her back against the door. Just talking to him exhausted her.

She bites her lip. Maybe she had been too harsh. He was right; he was only just moving in, and Lucy was sure she wasn't exactly quiet when she had unpacked her stuff.

Guilt suddenly washed over her. That man was totally innocent, and she had just lashed out at him because she was having trouble finishing her chapter and he happened to be nearby causing a ruckus. She blamed him for something that wasn't even his fault, and now she has wasted his first impression of her.

He's probably thinking that he has an awful new neighbor right now, Lucy thinks, frowning.

Lucy clenches her fists, pushing herself to her feet. Quickly, she grabs a bathrobe and ties it around her waist, slipping her feet into some flats near the door.

She walks out and is about to pound on his door like she had a few minutes before when he beats her to it. Just when she reaches for the door hanger, there's another loud thud, and she hears a string of curses go off inside.

She knocks, pressing her ear to the door. "Hey, are you okay?"

The door opens unexpectedly, and Lucy, who was leaning against it, falls into him. She quickly pulls herself together, looking away and blushing.

His chest was warm, and toned. Lucy couldn't get enough of his abs, and felt like killing herself for basically gaping at him from his doorway.

"What? Came to yell at me some more?" he says, and Lucy suddenly realizes that her hunch was right. His tone is bitter, but not like he's mad; he's pouting and it sounds more like he's sad that she's mad at him.

Lucy feels like a horrible person right now.

"No," she says quietly, shifting from foot to foot. "I actually came to apologize. I think I was too harsh to you, you are just moving in after all-"

He smiles so fast that it's blinding. Lucy wishes he had put up a warning because his grin is boyish and cute and with his whole mouth and it feels like a blanket draping over her and she totally isn't ready for him.

"Apology accepted!" he cheerfully says, and it almost sounds as if he expected her to come back to say sorry or something.

There's a moment of awkward silence as she stands there staring at his smile and he just keeps beaming down at her like a ray of sunlight on this overcast December morning.

"Well," she coughs. "Do you need any help in there?"

The man blinks, before opening the door wider for her. He just keeps smiling, and it's contagious. Lucy's lips tug upward and she desperately tries to hide the weird joy that's rushing through her as she walks into his flat.

Lucy gasps. "This is-"

"Amazing?"

"Awful!" she yells. "There's so much rubbish in here!"

"It's not rubbish!" he shouts. "This is all stuff I collected."

"You have a box full of candles," Lucy observes, crouching down to pick up the variety of candles in the small box. From small and stout to long and thin, he had them all, in a variety of colors and smells.

"I like fire?" he questioningly answers, and Lucy shoots him a worried look. He was worse off than she thought.

"It was right of me to come over," she declares, standing and giving her bathrobe a tight tug so it won't slip off. "You need a lot of help."

"No, I don't," he retorts, walking over to her and pulling the pink candle she was holding out of her hands. Their fingers brush for a second and it feels electric.

"Do you want my help, or not?" Lucy snaps, and the man stares at her with those same onyx eyes she saw through the door crack, except now they're so much deeper and so much more welcoming. Lucy feels like she could get lost in them.

Then he gives her a small smile. "Go ahead."

Lucy smiles back, thinking that maybe this could be the start of something great. He's a bit odd, but he's more than a bit nice, and for some reason Lucy feels very comfortable around him, even though he's a half-naked guy with pink hair that she just met.

"I'm Natsu," he tells her.

"Lucy," she answers, and they clap their hands together in a handshake.

She's been feeling kind of down all morning, but now, looking up at Natsu, her manicured hand fitting perfectly in his calloused one, she feels invigorated. Outside it's beginning to snow but right now, in front of him, all she feels is warmth.

"I think we could make a pretty good team," she tells him, and she means it.

A/N: Because this is exactly what I should be doing when I haven't updated Top Ten yet.