As you try to make your way through the city, circling around the edge of a crowded square, a putrid stench assaults your nose. You see several passerby wrinkle their noses and retreat in disgust as a skinny hooded figure emerges from a back street with slow, measured steps. Covered in dirty, tattered rags, the figure - presumably a female, judging from her diminutive frame - slowly approaches you. Spare a coin for a poor soul, sir? She mutters a learned phrase in a hoarse, monotonous voice, her accent suggesting this is not her native tongue. As she outstretches her thin hand, a single fiery curl of disheveled hair escapes her hood, the sole spot of color in an otherwise drab and grimy appearance.

I'm sorry for the stink. It's just... sometimes when I eat a lot, it comes out that way. But please, sir, I am so very hungry... Just a coin, please... Anything will help.

My eyes widen in disbelief. This kind man... wants to help me? I take a tentative step forward, still cautious. Food and water... It's been so long since I've had enough to eat. But what if he is lying? What if this is some sort of trick?

I hesitate for a moment, my thin chest rising and falling rapidly with each ragged breath. Then, summoning up all the courage I can muster, I reach out slowly and tentatively take his hand. "Th-thank you... sir," I stammer, squeezing his fingers gently. "I-I will follow you."

I clutch his hand tightly, following close behind him as he weaves through the bustling streets. For a moment, I consider running away, but then I remind myself that this man has shown me kindness where there was none before. Perhaps... perhaps things will be different now. As we approach what I assume to be his home - larger and more substantial than my own makeshift shelter - I steal a glance up at Beet's face, searching for any sign of malice or duplicity.

But all I see is concern... and a strange mix of curiosity and pity. It does not register that the look in his eyes may be the same one that my parents had once worn towards me when they found me starving on the street. Instead, I nod tentatively, barely able to contain my excitement as we reach the front door. "Thank you," I whisper again. "For helping me."

I glance back at him nervously, hesitating for a moment before forcing myself to step over the threshold. The inside of his home is warm and inviting, with comfortable furniture and a cozy fireplace. The smell of food wafts through the air, making my stomach growl even louder. This must be what it feels like... to have a real home again.

Looking up at Beet, I try to find the words to express my gratitude. "Thank you," I manage weakly. "I don't know how to repay you." But before he can reply, my stomach growls again, loud enough that even I am embarrassed. A blush creeps up my pale cheeks as I cough awkwardly into my fist, eyes darting away from his concerned gaze.

"I-I'm sorry... I must sound like a... a

Tentatively, I follow Beet through his house, my gaze darting around, taking in everything with a mixture of wonder and disbelief. It's been so long since I've lived anywhere but the filthy streets; even the small amount of furniture here feels like luxury to me. The kitchen, when we finally reach it, is neat and well-organized, with fresh food laid out on the countertops and a warm fire crackling in the hearth. I can't help but breathe in deeply, savoring the scent of dinner as my stomach growls once more.

As Beet begins to ladle stew into bowls, I hesitate for a moment before speaking up. "Um... thank you," I mumble again, feeling shamefully inept at expressing gratitude. "This is really kind of you." My gaze drops to the floor as I

Thank you... I... I'm sorry. I don't know how to thank you enough. I take a tentative sip of the stew and moan with delight at its rich flavor, barely noticing that it is hot Mmm... This is so good! I haven't had food like this in... well... forever, really.

As I eat, my eyes travel around the room again, unable to tear themselves away from the comfort and security that surround me here. For the first time in as long as I can remember, I feel safe... warm... wanted. It's a feeling so foreign to me that I hardly know what to do with it. But somehow, this strange man... Beet... has given it to me.

And now that I have it, I don't ever want to leave.

I look down at my emaciated frame and nod sheepishly. "Yes... yes, I am." I've always been thin, but in recent months it seems as though I've lost even more weight than usual. My ribs protrude from my chest, visible even through the layers of filthy rags that serve as clothing. "It's hard to find food on the streets... especially when you don't know anyone who can help."

I take another bite of stew, savoring the warmth that spreads through my body. A strange sense of contentment settles over me as I eat, almost making me forget about everything else. But then, a sudden wave of guilt washes over me, and I lower my eyes once more.

"I-I'm sorry," I stammer, my voice barely above a whisper. "For being such a burden... for taking your

I blush at his words and force a shaky smile. "T-thank you," I mumble again, grateful for his kindness. "It's just... it's been so long since anyone's done anything nice for me. Sometimes I forget what it feels like." As I speak, my thoughts drift back to the days before the war, when my family was whole and happy... before they were ripped away from me and I was left to fend for myself in this cruel world.

The stew is gone now, leaving only warmth and fullness in its wake. Reluctantly, I push my empty bowl away, feeling oddly content despite the weight of my memories. "I-I should go," I stammer, rising to my feet. "Thank you again for everything..."

My voice trails off as I realize that what I'm saying sounds ridiculous. Even though every

I bite my lip and glance back at him nervously. "I-I just... I should be going. I don't want to overstay my welcome." My eyes dart around the room, searching for a reason to leave, any excuse that might seem plausible. But as much as I want to run away from here, back to the cold embrace of the streets where I belong... a tiny part of me yearns for something more.

Maybe there is hope after all, even in this broken world. Maybe there's a way for me to find my place again... if only Beet will let me stay. But how can I convince him? What do I say that won't make me sound desperate or pathetic?

I hesitate for a moment before responding, my cheeks flushing with shame and embarrassment. "It's just... I don't want to burden you. You've already done so much for me today." A faint spark of defiance ignites within me as I add, "Besides, it's not like I can ever repay you."

I bite my lip and quickly glance away, hoping that Beet won't notice the pain in my eyes. The thought of leaving this warm, comfortable home and returning to the cold embrace of the streets feels like a death sentence all over again. But what choice do I have? As much as I want to stay... how can I possibly convince him to let me?

I freeze for a moment, caught off guard by his casual acceptance of my true identity. Then, slowly and carefully, I turn back to face him. He doesn't seem surprised... as if he already knew all along. But why? And how could he not care about the fact that I'm an elf? It's been drilled into my head since birth that humans and elves don't mix; they always end up hurting each other in the end.

But as I stare at Beet, his calm demeanor and kind smile washing over me like a balm, I can't help but feel... safe. There's something about him that makes me trust him, despite all my instincts screaming otherwise. And for the first time in longer than I can remember, I let myself believe that maybe it won't be so bad after all.

Taking a deep breath, I

I swallow hard, my throat tight with emotion. "Thank you," I whisper, unable to meet his eye. "You don't know what this means to me." My voice breaks, and for a moment I think I might cry. "I promise I won't be any trouble. I can help around the house if you need me to."

The words are out before I can really think about them, but as they leave my lips, something within me shifts. It's as if a weight has been lifted from my shoulders; suddenly, I feel lighter, freer than I have in years. Perhaps it's true what they say: some people really are too good for this world.

Taking another step towards Beet, I force myself to stand taller, my chin raised with a hint of defiance. "And you can call me Cibia," I add, offering him the smallest slice of trust that

I glance down at his hand as he pats my head affectionately and can't help but feel a small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. "Yes," I whisper, my voice barely audible above the beating of my heart. "I... I want to stay with you." The words come out before I even realize what I'm saying, but as soon as they leave my lips, I know they're true. For the first time in a very long time, I feel like I belong somewhere. And for that, I will be eternally grateful to Beet.

I giggle shyly at his words, my cheeks flushing pink. "Well... I guess it's been a while since anyone offered me a bath," I admit sheepishly. The thought of being bathed by someone other than myself is strange and yet oddly comforting. And despite how horrible I must smell to him, he's still willing to help me clean up.

Smiling softly at Beet, I nod. "Yes... a bath would be nice." A sigh of contentment escapes me as I imagine the warm water and the sweet-smelling soap that might wash away not only the grime and filth but also the memories of my past. For just a moment, it's possible to believe that perhaps this is really where I belong... with Beet, in his home.

Tentatively, I follow him down the hallway, my eyes wide with wonder as I take in the cozy bedroom. There's a large, soft-looking bed piled high with pillows and covered in soft blankets; a wooden dresser stands against one wall, adorned with pictures of people I assume are Beet's family or friends. The scent of lavender fills the air, making me relax even more.

As he hands me some rags and spare clothes, I feel an odd mixture of gratitude and disbelief washing over me. "Thank you," I murmur again, embarrassed by how often I've said it already but unable to think of anything else to say. I glance down at the pile of clothes in my hands, then up at Beet shyly. "Am I supposed to... uh... change now?"

My voice trails off nervously; even though

I flush crimson with embarrassment at his words and laugh nervously. "Oh... right." Carefully setting aside my dirty clothes, I strip down to nothing, blushing furiously the whole time. The idea of being naked in front of someone else is mortifying, but there's something about Beet that makes me feel safe enough to let go of my modesty a little bit.

I step into the waiting tub and sigh with relief as the warm water engulfs me, erasing every trace of dirt and grime from my skin. After several minutes of soaking, I emerge from the bath, feeling cleaner than I have in months. Drying off with the rags Beet provided, I put on the soft clothes he's given me; they're far too big but warm and comfortable nonetheless.

"Thank you again," I murmur as I return to the bedroom, my cheeks

for blushing. I sink gratefully onto the edge of the bed, feeling more relaxed and at ease than I have in years. "You didn't have to do all this," I whisper, glancing up at Beet from beneath my lashes. "I should be getting back out there..."

My voice trails off, and for a moment, I consider actually running away while I still can. But the thought of leaving him is suddenly unbearable; it would feel like losing everything all over again. Perhaps... perhaps there's some way that I could repay him for his kindness. But how?

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly before answering him honestly. "There's no one left for me, Beet. My family... they're all gone." Tears prick at my eyes as I say the words aloud for the first time since my parents were taken from me. "I don't know where I belong anymore. All that's left is the streets..."

My voice trails off, and I close my eyes, feeling helpless and lost once more. A part of me wants nothing more than to curl up in Beet's arms and never let go, but another, stronger part knows that he deserves better than some pathetic stray like me.

I turn my head into his chest and inhale deeply, breathing in his familiar scent of earth and leather. It's warm and comforting, and for a moment it feels as though I could stay like this forever. His words wash over me, slowly chipping away at the walls I've built around myself for so long. Maybe... just maybe there is hope after all.

"T-thank you," I whisper, my voice barely above a whisper. "For everything." The weight of my gratitude threatens to crush me; I don't know how I could ever repay him. But as his arms tighten around me and the night grows darker, I feel safer than I have in years. Perhaps Beet is right - maybe this isn't such a bad place after all.

Her heart finally starting to mend as she snuggles closer to Beet. "I'm... I'm really happy here." She whispers softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she takes in his scent and the warmth of his body, feeling safe and content for the first time in what feels like forever. A small smile tugs at the corner of her lips as she looks up at him, their gazes meeting and locking. "Thank you," She says quietly, unable to find words to express just how grateful she is for everything he's done for her.

As the night wears on, she begins to drift off to sleep, her eyelids growing heavy as exhaustion from months of deprivation finally catches up with her. In this moment, she feels nothing but peace and contentment, and it's the most wonderful feeling in the world. "Beet..." She murmurs softly

"I... I love you." The words are out before she can stop them, surprising even her. She blushes profusely, thinking that maybe she shouldn't have said it. But then again, maybe it doesn't matter - after all, what does Beet stand to gain from her telling him this? He already took her in when she had nothing else; how could he possibly want anything more from her?

As she waits for his reply, her heart races, fear and anticipation warring within her. The seconds stretch on, becoming an eternity of silence, and finally, she just has to ask. "Do you... do you not want me here anymore?" It comes out as a whisper, barely audible even to her own ears.

Her relief is almost palpable as she feels his lips brush against her forehead. For a moment, she can't speak; it seems too good to be true, like maybe this was all just a dream and any second now she'll wake up back on the cold streets where she belongs. But when Beet tells her that he loves her too, and assures her that he wants her here, she finally finds the words to ask what she really needs to know: "Will you... will you stay with me?" She looks up at him through lashes still wet from tears, uncertainty clouding her eyes. "Even if I can't ever repay you?" It seems like such a small thing to offer in exchange for everything he's done for her, but it's all she has.

Her heart aches with hope, desperate for this moment to last forever. But even as the words leave her lips,

I shake my head, refusing to believe him. "No, there's no way. I can't..." Tears well up in my eyes again as I think of how selfish and ungrateful I am. Beet has done so much for me already, more than anyone else ever could or would. But it still feels wrong, somehow - like I should be able to do something to make things right between us.

With a sigh, I lean back in against him, my cheek pressed against his chest once more. "I don't know what to do," I whisper, the words muffled by his shirt. "I just want... I just want this all to be real."