I bent down to pick up the paper at my door. Same black pen, same handwriting. But this time, the words went a little further.
"I heard your footsteps this morning. There's always the same rush about you when you leave the house. Don't worry, I'll get used to it."
"Get used to it?!" I said out loud. Inside, I continued: What are you getting used to—my rhythm? My leaving hours? No way!
I crumpled the note and stuffed it into my bag. For some reason, I couldn't throw it away. It felt like something I needed to keep—like evidence. And strangely, my heart was pounding not just with fear, but with curiosity.
When I stepped out of the building, I could hear Işıl's voice echoing in my head:
"Your life needs a little action, Ada. Always work, always your cat, always pajamas… One day someone will appear and change your life."
Well, someone had appeared. The problem was: which lunatic was it?
Over breakfast, I told her everything. Her eyes sparkled.
"It must be your neighbor across the hall!" she said eagerly.
"No way. He didn't even come to the meeting."
"Maybe he did, and you didn't notice?"
"Right. He sneaked into the meeting just to notice whether I was wearing anything under my shirt. Makes perfect sense, Sherlock."
Işıl burst into laughter. "Ada, this is definitely flirting. A mystery that starts with notes. I think it's sexy."
"I think it's perverted."
"There's a fine line between the two—that's where the thrill comes from."
Breakfast dragged on, but my thoughts stayed stuck in the same place. When I returned and stepped into the building entrance, my eyes instinctively lifted upward. It felt as though a pair of eyes were watching me. The hairs on my arms stood on end.
Even while waiting for the elevator, the feeling persisted. Like someone was following me in the shadows. Each time I turned around, my heart raced. I tried to laugh at myself, but no sound came. What a ridiculous paranoia, I thought. But the unease inside me grew with every step.
By the time I reached my door, my hands were trembling. I glanced down nervously—no paper this time. I took a deep breath. Who's playing this game with me? I asked myself, shivers running through me.
Unlocking the door, I found Pakize waiting there. I bent down and stroked her head; she purred affectionately. "What should we do, girl? Should we put up a camera by the door?" I muttered, half-laughing, though the tension in my chest lingered. She tilted her head, as if trying to make sense of everything too.
I stood in the doorway, breathing deeply. Maybe it was just a joke. But beneath the fear, there was something else—a flicker of curiosity. And that curiosity both scared me and excited me.
I closed the door, but my heart still pounded. Pakize padded around me, purring, tapping the table lightly with her paw, as if saying, Come on, there's something behind this.
I went to my bedroom and put on my favorite pink pajamas with teddy bears. The soft fabric against my skin comforted me a little. Then I headed to the kitchen and turned on the coffee machine. The hissing of hot water wasn't enough to drown out the frantic rhythm of my heart. I murmured to myself:
"Okay, Ada… calm down. It's just a note. Think rationally."
But rational thinking wasn't helping. Every corner, every shadow, every sound felt amplified. Pakize tapped the table again, purring, as if to say, You're being overly dramatic.
I opened my laptop, tried to focus on work. The blank screen glared back at me. My fingers touched the keys, but no words came. My mind wanted to concentrate, yet all it circled back to was the same question: Who could be writing the notes?
Maybe Alp… or someone else? But no logical option eased the tension inside me.
Finally, I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and whispered:
"Alright… coffee first, then work. Solving the mystery of the notes can wait."
Pakize leapt onto my lap, pressing her head against me as she purred. I buried my face in her soft fur, letting myself calm down for a brief moment.
A week passed. Still no new notes. Every time I opened the door, I looked down nervously, scanning for paper. Who even leaves notes these days? I thought. The last time I remembered exchanging notes was in primary school. Even then, I hadn't taken them this seriously—it had been just for fun.
Maybe there's a nostalgic pervert in the building, I mused, smiling to myself.
The days slid back into routine. The building was silent, gray, ordinary again. No notes, no surprises. As if the strange game had ended.
But Işıl was obsessed. Every time my phone rang, I knew what she'd ask.
"Any notes?"
"No, Işıl. None." My voice wavered despite my answer. Deep inside, I couldn't shake the feeling it wasn't over. That somehow, it would start again.
She laughed hoarsely on the other end. "Alright, alright… but I'm still waiting! Your life is boring, Ada. You need excitement. Admit it!"
"Excitement?" I muttered. "I wouldn't mind, but please let it be in a normal way, okay?"
One evening, when I had almost forgotten about the notes, I got ready to have coffee with Ela, my upstairs neighbor. By "getting ready," I meant slipping into my pajamas and tying my hair before heading for the door.
But when I opened it, I froze. Standing right in front of me was Alp, the handsome new neighbor from across the hall.
And in his hand… a piece of paper.
My eyes widened, my breath quickened.
"You… what are you doing here?!" I blurted, half-angry, half-shocked. My gaze snapped to the paper. "What's that? Is that… another note?"
Alp seemed to be biting his lips to stop a smile. My heart was pounding out of my chest. I stepped forward and pointed at the paper.
"I can't believe this… it was you leaving those notes at my door?!" My voice cracked with both fury and disbelief.
Alp tilted his head, raising his brows. A faint smirk played on his lips.
"Looks like you've judged me guilty a little too quickly, pajama girl. I just found this and got curious." His tone was maddeningly calm.
Ada's brows furrowed, her eyes wide.
"You think I'm stupid? I caught you red-handed!" she snapped.
Alp burst into laughter.
"You really think I'd leave creepy notes like that?" he said. Then he slowly unfolded the paper and began to read aloud:
"Ada, did you miss me? I think of you every night. I can't wait for the nights when I'll be lying beside you in that bed."
Ada's face flushed crimson. She froze, breathless, as if the words had stolen the air from her lungs. Alp folded the note again, tucking it away, his eyes glinting with both amusement and a strange protectiveness.
"Whoever this creep is, he's blind," he said with a shrug. "Or he's never seen you in those teddy-bear pajamas. I'm pretty sure that's not what he imagines you wearing."
Ada instinctively glanced down at her pajamas, then crossed her arms and shot him a glare.
"Listen… don't you dare insult my pajamas. At least they don't make stupid jokes like you do."
Alp couldn't hide his grin.
"It's not a joke. I'm serious. If it were me, I wouldn't leave you notes. Because I don't need stupid tricks to see you."
Ada's heart raced, but all that escaped her lips was:
"Arrogant…"