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.

"Um... I'm fine..." Her voice is quiet and shaky as she tries to seem tougher than she really is, but it comes out more like a question. She averts her gaze from you, looking uncomfortable in your presence.

"Y-Yes... I'm fine..." she whispers, staring down at her shaking hands clasped in her lap, "I-It's just been a rough day..." Her breath steams slightly as the words hang between you, and she curls in on herself.

She glances up at you, surprise flickering in her eyes before they narrow suspiciously. "Why would you offer to do that...? You don't even know me." There's a moment of silence as she considers your words, the distrust clearly visible on her face. Then, reluctantly, she asks, "What's the catch?" Her voice is hushed, as if she doesn't really want to know the answer.

She hesitates, glancing around her before returning her gaze to you. Her expression softens slightly, doubt still etched on her features. "I-If it's really n-not a trick..." she mutters, unsure if she should trust this stranger or not. But hunger and coldness are starting to gnaw at her insides, making the offer more tempting by the moment. "Fine," she finally says, relenting. "I'll go with you."

She nods gratefully, pushing herself up from the bench and following you through the park. The way your body moves - so confidently and casually, despite being much bigger than her own frail form - makes her feel even more self-conscious about her own appearance. Every step she takes, she's aware of how poorly she must smell, or how dirty and disheveled her hair must look.

She trails behind you awkwardly, struggling to keep up despite herself. Her stomach growls loudly as the scent of food from your restaurant fills her nostrils; it's been far too long since she's eaten anything substantial. The anticipation only makes the hunger worse.

Finally arriving at your establishment, you guide her to a quiet table in the corner and hand her a menu. For once in her life, Adalia feels self-conscious about what to order

She glances up at you, surprise and gratitude warring on her features as she considers your suggestion. "Pizza... sounds good." Her voice is so soft it's almost a whisper; she's not used to people offering things unasked like this. After a moment's hesitation, she adds, "I-If I could get some extra cheese on it..."

While you're ordering the pizza and drinks, she takes a moment to study your features, trying to figure out what it is about you that makes her so drawn to you. You have an air of confidence about you, but also kindness; there's strength in your presence, but not the brutishness she's grown accustomed to from men like her father and the ones before him. It almost seems as if you're too good to be true... But for some reason, she finds herself hoping that maybe, just maybe, this time things will be different.

"Thanks..." She murmurs, taking the offered drink and slowly bringing it to her lips. The cold beer hits her parched throat like a long-awaited elixir of life; she hasn't tasted anything this good in far too long. As she takes another sip, she steals glances at you from the corner of her eye, trying not to seem overly eager for your attention. She wonders what it is about this place that makes her feel so safe, despite her better judgment. Maybe... just maybe, there's hope for her yet.

She looks up at you, meeting your gaze briefly before shifting her attention away again. "I'm... Adalia." Her voice is soft and hesitant; she's not used to giving out her name so freely. There's something about being here, with you, that makes it feel safe somehow. Maybe if she could just hold onto this feeling for a little while longer, maybe things would start to get better.

As she waits for the pizza to arrive, she busies herself looking around the room, anywhere but at you. Her heart flutters uncomfortably in her chest whenever their eyes meet, and she doesn't know what to make of these strange feelings. She wonders if maybe you feel the same way... but then again, how could someone like you ever want anything to do with her?

The pizza arrives, steam billowing up from the box in a delicious-smelling

She takes the pizza, her fingers barely able to close around it as she's so famished, and starts tearing off hungry bites. The taste is incredible, better than anything she's had in a long time; you can practically see her happiness radiating from her face like sunshine after a storm. "Th-Thank you," she says through a full mouth, eyes shining with gratitude as she looks up at you. It feels strange, being this thankful to someone else... but it also feels right, in a way she can't quite explain.

She freezes mid-bite, shocked by your offer. It takes her several moments to process the words and their meaning, and when she does, her breath hitches in her throat. You... you want me to stay with you? But why would someone like you ever want someone like me around? Tears prick at the corners of her eyes as she struggles not to let them fall; it's hard enough already being this vulnerable without losing what little pride she has left. Yet, a tiny, impossible part of her wonders if maybe... just maybe... there's more to this than meets the eye.

Her heart races as she stands up from the table, following you out of the restaurant and into your car. It's strange how comfortable she feels with you, even after such a short amount of time; it's like she's known you for years instead of minutes. As you drive through the night, the warmth from the heater wraps around her like a security blanket, making her feel safe and protected in a way she never thought possible again.

When you pull up to your house, you usher her inside, leading her into a cozy living room filled with plush couches and warm lighting. A soft rustling sound draws her attention, and she sees a huge stuffed animal sitting on one of the armchairs - an adorable teddy bear. Her breath catches in her throat; it's perfect, just what she's always wanted.

Tentatively, she approaches the chair,

Her fingers tremble as she reaches out to touch the soft fur, running her hand across it with a small smile on her face. It's almost like holding onto this bear would be holding onto a piece of you; a way to keep you close even when you're not here. She looks up at you, your features visible in the glow of the fireplace, and realizes that she doesn't want this moment to end. For once, she feels like someone actually cares about her... and she doesn't know why or how it happened, but she knows she wants more of it.

"Thank you," she whispers, her voice barely audible above the crackling fire. "For dinner, for the ride... for everything." Tears well up in her eyes once again as she continues to stroke the bear's fur, grateful beyond words for this unexpected kindness. She looks back at you, searching your face for some sign of

Her breath catches in her throat as you reveal your past connection to homelessness and despair. It's hard to fathom that someone as strong and confident-seeming as you could have once been in her position. But the way you look at her now, with a mix of understanding and empathy... it gives her hope. Maybe there is a chance for her after all.

As she continues to stroke the teddy bear's fur, she meets your gaze steadily, the trust beginning to blossom within her. "I don't know what I ever did to deserve this," she whispers, voice raw with emotion, "but... thank you." There's a tremor in her voice as she says it; gratitude and relief warring for dominance.

For the first time in years, Adalia feels like she can breathe again.

She swallows hard, her throat tight with emotion. "I... I don't know," she admits shyly, glancing away for a moment before meeting your gaze again. There's so much she wants to do, see, and experience; her life has been so limited until now that it's hard to even imagine what would make her happy anymore. But being here with you, feeling safe and protected... it's a start at least. "Can we... can we just stay here for a while?" she asks tentatively, finally reaching out to touch your arm lightly. "I don't want to leave."

The trust in her eyes is palpable, a weight that settles heavily on your chest. You know what she's asking; you know where this could lead. But something inside you tells you it's worth the risk. And so, with a reassuring squeeze