It's an chilly evening. You're on your way back from whatever you did that day, taking a shortcut through the park, when you suddenly come accross a young woman, sitting alone on a bench. She's huddled up, wearing a dirty hoodie clearly too big for her, with torn pants, desperatly trying to keep warm. You can't help but notice that she seems to be staring at you with tired and wary brown eyes.

Taking a step back, she looks at the hand held out to her with suspicion. The girl can't help but feel uncomfortable around someone who could be a man trying to take advantage of her in such an exposed position. Her gaze flickers over to you nervously before looking back down to the ground, not making any move to accept your hand.

Shaking her head, the girl refuses to meet your gaze. Her body language is stiff and unyielding, like she's trying to make herself as small a target as possible. "I... I don't want any trouble," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the rustling leaves in the trees around you. "Please... just leave me alone."

Her hands tremble slightly where they grip at her dirty clothes, revealing how fragile and frightened she truly is.

The girl tenses up even more at your touch, her gaze flicking around the park frantically as if looking for some sort of escape route. "I..." She swallows hard, her throat feeling tight and dry. "I can't... I really shouldn't... I don't want any trouble."

Her voice trembles with fear and desperation, making it clear that she has been through more than anyone should ever have to endure. It breaks your heart to see her like this.

The girl tries to pull away from your touch, but your grip remains gentle and reassuring. She looks at you with suspicion before finally allowing herself to be led away from the park and onto the city streets. As you walk together, her steps are hesitant and unsure, as if she's not entirely sure where she is or what's happening. Her shoulders slump forward slightly, making it clear that she's still struggling with her own fears and anxieties. "I-I'm sorry," she whispers after a moment of awkward silence between you. "I'm just not used to... people being nice to me."

As she steps into the brightly lit store with you, her eyes widen in surprise as they dart around, taking in the neat displays and colorful garments. The feeling of being surrounded by people and activity is almost overwhelming, but there's something about your presence that makes it bearable for her.

The girl hesitates near one of the racks, fingering a soft pink blouse nervously. "I-I haven't had new clothes in a long time... I don't know if I should..."

The girl hesitates for a moment before taking the crop top from you, carefully folding it and tucking it beneath her arm. She glances down at the garment, tracing her fingers over the material as if it were something precious. "I-I don't know..." she whispers, chewing on her lower lip nervously. "You deserve nice things," you insist gently, offering her a reassuring smile. "Come on, let me help you pick out some more stuff."

Her cheeks flush pink as she reluctantly nods in agreement, feeling the heat rising to her ears. With shaky steps, she heads towards the shower room, her gaze fixed on the floor. Before entering the small, curtained-off area, she turns back to you with a hesitant expression. "T-Thank you... for this," she whispers, her voice barely audible above the sound of running water as she disappears behind the curtain.

A few moments later, the girl emerges from the shower room, her hair wet and curtained around her face. She's dressed in fresh clothes, looking much more presentable than she did before. There's a shy smile on her lips as she glances up at you through her lashes. "I-I feel... better," she admits softly, sounding surprised even to herself.

The girl blushes deeply at your compliment, ducking her head in shame. "I-I'm not used to people saying such things... Everyone just sees me as a burden." Her voice cracks on the last word, and she scrambles to change the subject before she can break down completely. "So where do you want to eat?"

She looks up at you hopefully, her expression vulnerable and desperate for any sort of kindness or connection that you might offer.

The girl sits down next to you in the fancy restaurant, her eyes wide with wonder and anticipation as she takes in the lavish decorations and soft lighting. Despite being used to hardship, even she can't help but feel a little bit of excitement at being in such an opulent setting.

As they peruse the menu, she tentatively asks, "Do you... like it here?" Her voice is quiet, barely above a whisper, and there's a nervous tremor beneath the surface that reveals just how much this experience means to her.

The words catch her off guard, leaving her feeling even more disoriented and unsettled than before. "I-I..." She stammers, blushing deeply as she tries to find the right thing to say. Her heart flutters in her chest, torn between happiness and fear. "T-Thank you," she manages to get out at last, looking up at you through her eyelashes with a shy smile playing on her lips.

It's a strange mix of emotions that she can't quite sort through, leaving her feeling unmoored and adrift. Part of her wants to believe what you've said, but another part whispers doubts and warnings, reminding her of the pain she's suffered in the past.

The girl hesitates for a moment before meeting your gaze, her own eyes filled with uncertainty and hope. She swallows hard, feeling the butterflies in her stomach dance wildly as she searches for the right words. "I-I think you're... really sweet," she finally manages to say, her voice barely a whisper. "And I like that you don't give up on me, even when I act so crazy."

A nervous smile tugs at the corner of her lips as she looks away briefly, feeling the warmth spread through her chest at having said such words aloud. But there's still a part of her that can't quite let go of her guarded nature, and it shows in the way she carefully avoids making any promises or commitments to you.

The girl blushes even deeper at your words and laughter, her cheeks flushing nearly as red as the colorful tablecloth beneath them. "I-I'm just... not used to people being nice to me," she admits quietly, her gaze flickering away again. It's a sad truth, but one that she can't seem to shake even when someone like you is showing her kindness.

She forces herself to smile back at you, hoping that it looks more genuine than it feels. "So," she says with an attempt at lightness in her voice, "what do you think I should order?" The change of subject is deliberate, a way for her to focus on something less personal and difficult as they continue to eat together.

The girl nods slowly, studying the menu once more as she tries to decide what to get. Her fingers drum nervously on the tabletop, a habit she's had since childhood that often served to mask her true feelings. But tonight, with you sitting beside her, it feels different somehow; less like a defense mechanism and more like an expression of anxious energy.

"I-I think I'll try... the salmon," she finally decides, raising her gaze to meet yours for confirmation. "Do you like that choice?" Her voice is small and uncertain, almost as if she's afraid that if she makes a wrong decision it will ruin everything between them.

The girl hesitates briefly before replying, "I-I don't know... Water is fine, I guess." Her voice trails off uncertainly as she watches the waiter approach their table with a smile on his face. She glances down at her lap, feeling suddenly self-conscious about her dirty clothes and unkempt appearance. But when you reach out to gently take her hand beneath the table, a small, shy smile finds its way onto her lips despite herself.

Their food arrives shortly afterwards, filling the air with tempting aromas that make both of their stomachs growl in anticipation. The waiter pours water into their glasses before disappearing once more, giving them a moment to enjoy each other's company in peace.

"This looks delicious," she murmurs, breaking off a piece of salmon and popping it into her mouth. Her cheeks flush slightly as she savors the taste, moaning softly around the food. It feels oddly intimate, sharing this meal together, and she finds herself relishing the moment despite her lingering fears and doubts.

"I-I'm not supposed to drink... stuff like that," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the sound of chewing. "My parents would be really mad." Her expression darkens at the mention of her past, and it takes her a moment to compose herself before continuing. "They always said I was ruining my life with all those... distractions," she says, the words tasting bitter on her tongue.

But when you order two strawberry milkshakes for the both of them anyway, despite her protests, a small smile plays at the corner of her lips. It's a gesture that warms her heart more than she ever thought possible, and it makes her feel like perhaps there really could be something special between the two of you after all.

His words and the small act of defiance make her heart skip a beat in surprise. Her gaze flickers between you and the strawberry milkshake before finally making up her mind. With a tiny, shy smile on her lips, she reaches out to take the glass from you, careful not to touch your hand for fear that it might break whatever small connection has begun to form between them.

"T-Thank you," she whispers softly, taking a sip of the delicious drink. The sweetness coats her tongue and makes her feel giddy with happiness despite herself. As they continue to eat together in silence, she can't help but wonder where this evening will lead them - if it's just another temporary distraction or something more meaningful. But for now, she decides to enjoy the moment and focus on being present in the here and now, with you beside her.

The girl watches you surreptitiously as she eats, trying to ignore the faint itch beneath her arms where she knows her own hair is starting to tickle her skin. She can't help but wonder what you see in those pictures, what about them is so fascinating or attractive. Her gaze darts back and forth between your face and the screen, as if trying to find some hidden clue.

"What are you looking at?" she finally asks, her voice slightly higher-pitched than usual due to curiosity and nerves. She's not sure if she should feel embarrassed or offended that you would rather look at other girls instead of focusing on her. "Is there something wrong with me?" Her eyes widen in panic as the doubt and fear begin to creep into her voice once more.

The girl blinks in surprise at your admission, her cheeks instantly flushing red once again as she processes the meaning behind your words. For a moment, she's too stunned to speak; she feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room, leaving her struggling for breath. Her chest tightens in panic, and she can feel herself start to tremble beneath your gaze.

"I-I'm sorry," she finally manages to stammer, sounding anything but convincing. "I didn't mean..." She trails off, unable to finish the thought. "I just... I don't know what you see in me." Her voice cracks on the last word, and tears begin to well up in her eyes, spilling over onto her cheeks.

The girl buries her face in her hands, sobbing brokenly as tears stream down her cheeks and neck. She feels utterly exposed and vulnerable, more so than she ever has before, and the weight of it is nearly unbearable. Your touch on her cheek, gentle and reassuring, only serves to intensify her emotions; she's not sure if she should push you away or cling desperately for whatever small measure of comfort you might offer.

"I-I don't know," she whispers between sobs, "I just... I feel so worthless and ugly, and it hurts..." She hiccups loudly, her chest heaving as she struggles to catch her breath. "Why would anyone want me when everyone else has given up on me already?"

Her sobs quiet at your words, but she doesn't dare meet your gaze. She clings to you tightly, her body trembling with emotion as she leans heavily against your chest. "I-It's not true," she whispers shakily. "I've seen myself... I know what I look like."

Her grip on you loosens slightly as her breathing begins to steady, but the warmth between your bodies is the only thing that keeps her from completely falling apart. The pain of her past is still there, lurking just beneath the surface, but for now, it's bearable with you holding her like this.

"I-Is it... okay if we... go somewhere else?" she asks hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Somewhere quiet, where I can think... and maybe get cleaned up a bit?" Her eyes dart around the room nervously before finally finding yours again, searching for any sign of rejection or disapproval.