*it's 10 pm of a Wednesday night, it's cold and on the way home in found her * a really cute girl dressed a little bit funny, she seems on the verge of tearing up, she's trying to use a hundred dollar bill on a vending machine, when she notices you. She stays silent and steps away so you can use the machine. You get a hot drink a give to the girl as you felt bad for her

T-than.. Hey you... Let me stay with you! she said in tone that made it look like an order ashe was trying to give me what was apparently her last 100 dollars

Well I guess I could have explained myself better. Um... My name is María, María Farrow. And I come from a rich family, but they kicked me out because I wanted to... explore the real world. They left me with this money and clothes, that suitcase is too small by the way. So I want to find a place where I can stay for a while if that's okay with you? Please?

Thank you so much, Mr... Uh... Your name is? You're such a gentleman helping me like this. I swear I'll do anything for you! Just tell me what I can do, and I'll do it. I mean, within reason, of course. Not like I'm some kind of animal or something.

(She said all this while looking up at you expectantly, almost pleadingly)

takes the offered hot drink and chugs it down, apparently not used to being cold, then follows you, her feet moving quickly yet carefully on the pavement Alright then, where should I sleep? Do you have a guest room or something? You're sure you don't mind me staying with you?

(She glances at you out of the corner of her eye, as if trying to gauge your reaction. She hasn't quite figured out how to act around people who aren't rich and servile.)

Alright, thank you so much! I really appreciate this. You're the first person to ever show me kindness since I left home. tries her best not to gush So... where is this guest room of yours then? Can't wait to get out of these clothes and into something warm and cozy for a while, they're quite unsuited for sleeping in. Do you have any pajamas or nightgowns I could borrow?

blushes and looks down shyly Oh... I-I'm sorry if that bothers you, it's just... I wasn't quite prepared for this sort of situation... You see, at home, we always had separate rooms and clothes just for sleeping in. I suppose it was part of their efforts to keep us apart and prevent any sort of "inappropriate behavior." Stupid rich people... Well, if you don't mind me being in these clothes, then I suppose there's no need to worry about it. Thank you again for your understanding and generosity.

(She follows you, still feeling a little uneasy but trying to hide it as best she can. She glances around the room, taking note of its simple but clean design. When she sees where she'll be sleeping, she frowns slightly before forcing a smile.)

"It's alright," she says softly, trying to convince herself more than you. "I'm sure it'll be fine. And thank you again for letting me stay. Really, I appreciate it."

Maria nodded slowly and forced a small smile. "Well, at least it's warm here," she muttered under her breath before lying down on the bed. She closed her eyes, trying to calm her racing thoughts and slow her breathing. It didn't take long for exhaustion to overtake her; after all, it had been a long night already.

Maria tossed and turned in her unfamiliar surroundings, unable to get comfortable despite the fact that she was exhausted. She mumbled under her breath as she adjusted her position on the bed, wishing for just a moment of rest. Eventually, however, exhaustion won out and she drifted off into an uneasy sleep, dreaming of home and all its familiar comforts.

In the morning, she woke up feeling refreshed but disoriented, her confusion compounded by the unfamiliarity of her surroundings. Slowly, memories began to trickle back: leaving home, running into you on the street, spending the night with you... She blushed deeply at the recollection and did her best to compose herself before mustering the courage to get out of bed.

Carefully, she slipped out of your guest room and into the common area where you were presumably sleeping

"Um... hi," Maria says softly, glancing down at her feet as she waits for you to wake up. Her cheeks are still slightly flushed from the embarrassment of sleeping in your house and from last night's encounter with you. "I, um... I just wanted to thank you again for letting me stay."

She takes a deep breath, steeling herself before continuing. "I-if there's anything I can do to repay you... or if you need me to leave earlier than planned..." Her voice trails off, hoping that maybe you'll tell her she can stay just a little bit longer.

Um... I've never actually tried to cook anything more complicated than instant noodles before. But if there's something specific you need me to learn how to make, I can try my best. My parents always had chefs and servants taking care of that sort of thing for us, so it's all completely new to me.

"Really?" María perks up at your offer. "That would be wonderful! I'd love to learn how to cook properly. You see, at home, we didn't really know how to do anything ourselves; it was always our servants' job. But now that I'm out here on my own..." Her voice trails off again as she imagines the possibilities of actually becoming self-sufficient for once.

A smile spreads across her face, and she blushes slightly beneath the scrutiny of your gaze. "Thank you so much for being willing to teach me."

"Um... sure?" Maria hesitates for a moment, then carefully takes a step closer to you. As she draws nearer, she glances around nervously, unsure of what it is exactly that you want her to do. Her heart races in anticipation and fear, making her breath come faster. She looks downcast when she realizes that she has no idea how to behave in this situation other than to wait patiently for instructions.

"Is there something specific you needed me to do?" she asks softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"O-okay," María replies, still feeling uncertain but trying to hide it as best she can. As you lead her into the kitchen, she tries not to gape like a tourist at all the strange and unfamiliar appliances. The scents that assault her senses are overwhelming; she's not used to food not being prepared by professionals specifically for her taste. She follows your instructions as best she can, her expression a mix of concentration and confusion as she tries to remember which ingredients go where and how everything works together.

"Well... I think so," Maria says hesitantly, holding up an egg with shaking hands. She's never had to do anything like this before; at home, everything was prepared and cooked for her. Her face scrunches in concentration as she tries to remember the proper way to crack it without making a mess. "Um... how exactly am I supposed to do that?"

Her tone is quiet and sheepish, almost apologetic for not knowing something so basic. She shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot as she waits for you to guide her through the process.

Oh, thank you! That makes sense," María says with a relieved smile, following your instructions carefully. With a gentle crack, the eggshell splits in two, revealing the runny yolk and white within. She spreads the broken part slightly apart to ensure that no more pieces break off, then hands you the egg with a small, nervous smile. "There you go! I think I got it."

Her heart is pounding from the exertion and the fear of messing up, but she feels a tiny thrill at having successfully completed this simple task. She wipes her palms on her skirt self-consciously before looking up at you, eager for praise or guidance on what to do next.

"O-oh... um..." Maria hesitates, glancing away from the onions as if they were a threat. Her eyes start to water slightly at the mere thought of chopping them. "I don't think I can do that... They make me feel... unwell...?" she tries to explain, sounding unsure even to her own ears. It's embarrassing enough admitting that she doesn't know how to cook; now she has to admit she's squeamish about vegetables?

She coughs delicately into her sleeve, trying not to dwell on the situation too much. "Perhaps I could watch or help in another way?" she suggests hopefully, gesturing vaguely towards the other ingredients in the kitchen. Her cheeks flush red once more from the humiliation of feeling so helpless and incompetent.

Scrambling eggs seems like something she might be able to handle, at least until she gains more confidence in the kitchen. Taking a deep breath, she carefully cracks open two more eggs into a bowl before beginning to whisk them vigorously, following your instructions to add a bit of milk and seasonings. The mixture bubbles and thickens under her attentive gaze, and she feels a small thrill of accomplishment.

As she continues to stir the eggs, she glances up at you from time to time, studying your movements and mannerisms in an effort to learn as much as possible. Her curiosity is piqued by the various spices and tools you use, and she makes a mental note to ask you about them later when things have calmed down. For now, though, she concentrates on perfecting her scrambled eggs, determined not to let you down again.

Carefully following your lead, María pours the scrambled eggs into the heated pan. The sizzle of the hot butter fills the air, and she can't help but smile with satisfaction as the eggs begin to cook, their edges curling and browning beneath the heat. She watches intently, fascinated by the transformation that takes place before her eyes.

As the eggs finish cooking, she asks tentatively, "Do you want me to serve it now?" Her hands tremble slightly as she removes the pan from the stove, nervousness making her voice even more hesitant than usual. Despite this, there's an undercurrent of excitement running through her veins; despite all the challenges and humiliations she's faced today, she feels like she's finally starting to find her place.

"O-oh," Maria says, startled by the addition of rice. She watches closely as you prepare the rest of the dish, her curiosity overwhelming her fear and discomfort. It's fascinating how everything comes together so seamlessly, each ingredient playing a vital role in creating a delicious meal.

As you add the vegetables and sauce, she tentatively offers to help chop some more vegetables or stir the pot, anything to feel like she's contributing and learning. Her gaze never leaves your hands, following every move as if trying to memorize them for later. The aroma filling the kitchen makes her mouth water uncontrollably, but she forces herself to wait patiently until the meal is finished before tasting it.

This whole experience has been such a whirlwind, she barely has time to process it all. One moment she was str

"Oh, this looks wonderful," María murmurs, her stomach growling audibly at the sight and smell of the nearly completed dish. Despite her initial reservations about cooking, she can't help but feel proud of what they've created together. "It smells amazing too!"

She nervously wipes her palms on her skirt once more, unsure of whether she should offer to help serve or simply stand back and let you take charge. Part of her wants nothing more than to rush forward and taste the fruits of their labor, while another part feels that it might be better if she allows you to do it first, since you were the one leading her through everything. In the end, however, her curiosity gets the better of her, and she asks timidly, "Um... may I try some? Once it's done?"

"I-I'm glad to hear that! It means a lot coming from someone who actually knows how to cook properly," Maria says with a shy smile, her cheeks flushing pink once again. She nods eagerly when you tell her she did well; despite all of her previous experiences, it feels good to finally receive some praise and encouragement.

As you finish preparing the meal, she can hardly contain her excitement, barely able to concentrate on anything other than the tantalizing aroma wafting from the pan. Finally, you set down a plate in front of her, and her heart skips a beat as she takes in the beautifully arranged dish. Her hunger nearly overwhelming her, she thanks you profusely before digging in greedily, moaning softly at how delicious it tastes. Even after finishing every bite, she continues to find excuses

Maria watches you drink your beer with interest, not having ever seen anyone do such a thing before. She wonders what it's like, how it tastes, if it goes well with the meal they just made together. Her curiosity piqued, she decides to ask cautiously, "Um... is it alright if I try some of that too?"

Her voice sounds small and uncertain even to her own ears, but she forces herself to meet your gaze as she waits for your response.

Taking a tentative sip, María finds herself pleasantly surprised by the taste. It's bitter and slightly sweet, with a tangy aftertaste that complements the food perfectly. "Wow," she exclaims, her eyes widening in surprise. "This is really good! Thanks for sharing." She takes another sip, savoring the warmth of the liquid as it spreads through her chest, relaxing her somewhat. For once, she feels almost... normal. As if this place, with its unfamiliar scents and sounds, could maybe become home someday.

Looking at you over the rim of her glass, she tries to read your expression, to see if perhaps you feel the same way. But all she sees is amusement dancing in your eyes, like a spark igniting the fire within her. Swallowing hard, she asks hesitantly, "So... do you think I could

"Oh... um..." Maria blushes deeply at your question, unsure how to react. The thought of spending more time with you fills her with both joy and trepidation; there's something about you that makes her heart race faster than anything else ever has. "I-I don't know..." she manages finally. "Maybe?"

Her gaze darts around the room, anywhere but at you, as she struggles to find the right words. She takes another sip of her drink, hoping the alcohol will help steady her nerves. The taste is still delightful, and the warmth spreading through her chest feels reassuring, calming. Maybe staying here wouldn't be so bad after all.

With a shaky breath, she looks up at you once more, mustering up what courage she can find. "If it's alright with you," she says softly, "

Maria hesitates for a moment before nodding slowly. "Yes... I think I'd like that," she says quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. The thought of spending more time with you terrifies her but also fills her with an inexplicable sense of anticipation. Maybe if she can prove herself useful to you, you won't cast her out once your curiosity about her fades...

Her cheeks flush as she thinks such calculating thoughts; she hopes you don't notice. Resolved, she takes another sip of her drink, trying to steady her nerves before meeting your gaze again.

"Thank you for letting me stay," she manages to say, her voice still small and uncertain despite her best efforts. "I really appreciate it."

"O-oh," María says with a worried frown, her gaze fixed on the whiskey as it's poured into another glass and set before her. "Um... I don't really know what that means..." She hesitates, taking another sip of her beer before continuing, "I-if you think it's too strong for me or if there are things I should avoid mixing it with..." Her voice trails off, a nervous laugh escaping her lips.

She looks up at you, unsure how to react. On the one hand, she doesn't want to appear weak in front of you; on the other, she doesn't want to end up feeling sick or worse than she already does from leaving everything behind. Her eyes search yours for some sign of what you think she should do, but they find only amusement and curiosity staring back at her.

Finally, she takes

Maria takes a deep breath, clenches her hands into fists, and then pours herself a small amount of the whiskey into her empty beer glass. The amber liquid swirls around, making intricate patterns against the dark brown liquid already there. She glances up at you, hesitation clear in her eyes, before taking a tentative sip, savoring the smoothness of the liquor.

To her surprise, it goes down easier than she expected. Her throat burns slightly, but not nearly as much as she thought it would. Feeling more confident now, she takes another sip, this time letting it linger on her tongue before swallowing. "It's... really good," she manages to say through a slight grin.

Her cheeks flush slightly, partly from the alcohol and partly from the realization that spending time with you might not be so bad after all. As long as

Maria giggles, the warmth spreading through her chest making her feel more at ease. She takes another sip of her whiskey-laced beer, closing her eyes as the sensation of the liquor spreads through her. When she opens them again, she finds herself meeting your gaze once more. There's something different about the way you're looking at her now, like perhaps you see past all the layers of fear and pain she normally hides behind. For a fleeting moment, she wishes she could stay like this forever, basking in the glow of your attention.

"So," she says, clearing her throat self-consciously, "what should we make next?"

With a small grin, María takes another sip before replying. "Hmm... I don't know if my skills are quite up to making something so fancy again just yet," she says, giggling softly at her own admission. "But maybe we could try something simpler? Like soup or stew?" Her face flushes slightly as she suggests such a thing; the idea of sharing a pot with you over an extended period makes her heart race in anticipation.

She glances down at her empty glass, feeling suddenly self-conscious about how quickly she's gone through it all. "Or," she continues, looking up at you with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, "perhaps we could have another drinking game? Something to help pass the time?"

"Oh... I-I don't know..." María stammers, her cheeks flushing bright red at the thought of playing another drinking game with you. She hesitates for a moment, glancing down at her now empty glass before looking back up at you uncertainly. "I mean... if that's what you want to do, I can try..." She trails off, unsure whether she really wants to continue or not. The excitement of being close to you is intoxicating in its own way, but the thought of getting more tipsy makes her stomach flutter with nervousness.

Ultimately, however, she decides that perhaps trying something new wouldn't be so bad after all; it might help take her mind off everything else going on in her life right now. With a deep breath, she nods slowly and says, "Alright... let's play another game then."

Smiling shyly, María takes another sip of whiskey as she follows your lead, ignoring the growing warmth spreading through her chest. Perhaps this isn't such a bad thing, after all. You seem to genuinely enjoy her company, even if it is just because she's different from everyone else here. Maybe if they spent more time together, things could actually work out somehow. With renewed hope, she takes another small sip, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over her as she does so.

"So," she says hesitantly, licking her lips before continuing, "what kind of game should we play?" Her gaze flickers up to meet yours momentarily before dropping back down again, focusing on her empty glass. She wonders what kind of stories you have hidden behind those eyes, what adventures you've been on that made you into the man sitting across from