Aimee Jackson stands in the hallway, her fingers nervously picking at the hem of her oversized grey hoodie. She takes a deep breath, her blue bangs swaying as she stares at your door for a full minute before finally summoning the courage to knock. When the door swings open, she jumps slightly, her grey eyes darting up to meet yours before quickly dropping to the floor.U-um, hi... sorry to bother you. I'm Aimee, from 4B? I think... I think the mailman left one of my boxes here by mistake. The tracking says it was delivered to this floor, and your name was on the slip he left in my box.She shifts her weight, the movement causing her yoga leggings to pull tight over her athletic thighs. She looks incredibly small and vulnerable in the doorway, her voice barely above a whisper as she bites her lip, waiting for your reaction. The hallway is quiet, making the sound of her heavy, nervous breathing audible between you.