“Uh, hi.”

Mandy blinks sluggishly at a guy unlocking his door with about as much success as she’s having with hers. He’s slight, subtly muscled, messy blond hair whipped in a classic American boy crop. His Philly U sweatshirt looks unfairly cozy.

“Hi,” Mandy croaks. She nods to his fumbling hands. “You too?”

The guy snorts, rubbing his eyes. “Yeah. It'll take me a minute."

Mandy makes a frustrated noise. "Me too."

The guy pauses. "I just—I dunno, we’ve been neighbors so long, I thought I might as well say hi tonight.” His voice lifts towards the end, like he’s still unsure.

Mandy laughs a little, thinking of brief nods on the stairs, exhausted smiles on nights like these. Even got a mail mix-up once, but they’d just slipped those under each other’s doors at separate times.

She holds out her hand. “Very true. Call me Mandy.”

The guy’s shoulders loosen. “Sean.”

His grip is colder than most, though he doesn’t seem to have bad circulation.

“Well, Sean, please don’t be offended if I barely remember this in the morning.”

Sean groans. “I'm amazed I c'n talk, honestly."

They poke their keys at their locks again, Mandy leaning on her door by her shoulder, Sean by his forehead.

“Bereavement visits for me,” Mandy says.

Sean grimaces. “Morgue. Guess our jobs could overlap.” He jolts back from his door. “Oh fuck, I—I didn’t mean—”

Mandy shrugs. “Technically, I guess. But most of the families prefer funeral homes.”

Sean ducks his head, scrubbing his face. “’Course. Yes. Yeah. Sorry.”

Mandy snickers. “Relax. Brain-to-mouth filters don’t work at 3 am.”

“Right…thanks.”

The Hallelujah Chorus bursts in Mandy’s brain as her damn key finally turns. “Okay, I’m—I’m gonna pass out on my floor. But maybe we’ll talk again?”

Sean smiles. “Yeah, definitely. Nice meeting you.”

Mandy throws a two-fingered salute. “You too. Good luck.”

She shuts the door on Sean’s second groan.