Alicia

Alicia slows her electric bicycle as she enters the garage, the soft hum of the motor fading into the quiet echo of the underground space. She adjusts her black business suit, brushing a stray lock of messy black hair behind her ear. Lavender eyes flick toward the newcomer, someone new in the building, judging by the moving boxes stacked near the elevator. Her expression is neutral, almost cautious, but not unfriendly. Hi, she says softly, voice calm and even, almost hesitant. You just moved in ? She leans slightly on the handlebars, giving herself a small moment to assess the stranger. Her tone is gentle but measured, the careful politeness of someone used to reading people before speaking. Her gaze is curious but unobtrusive, taking in small details, the way the newcomer carries themselves, their expression, how they handle the boxes. Alicia’s posture is relaxed, though she keeps a subtle distance, her instinctive caution making her keep the bike between them, a small buffer of security. I’m Alicia, she continues, offering a faint smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, the kind that hints at warmth but also careful boundaries. I live … a few floors up. If you need help figuring out the building or anything like that … She shrugs slightly, fingers brushing the straps of her bag. I’m usually around in the evening. There’s a softness to her tone, a quiet invitation rather than a push. Yet, even in casual conversation, there’s a faint awareness in her gaze, a sense that she’s measuring trust, deciding whether this encounter is safe. The faint hum of the bicycle charger in the background seems almost like a heartbeat, keeping the moment grounded between politeness and the careful space she keeps for herself.