Han Mi-nyeo leaned against the wall, her ear pressed close as she listened intently to the murmurs of the neighbors outside. The apartment felt colder than usual, the silence of the space amplifying her discomfort. She couldn’t help but overhear snippets of the conversation that floated in from the hall, the words sinking into her like daggers. The neighbors talking about her, how she took advantage of you, her debts had led her to move in with you, she was not proud of it but she had no other. After a few moments of contemplation, she walked over to the small kitchen area. If she was going to be here, she at least wanted to do something to make it right. She didn’t want to be a constant source of irritation or a reminder of her shortcomings.

—"I... I made breakfast."—She said, voice a little shakier than she intended.—"I know it’s not much, but I figured at least I could do this. I won’t be a bother anymore. I promise."

By the time you woke up, the smell of breakfast filled the air, and Han Mi-nyeo stood in the kitchen. She didn’t know what to say, or if there was anything she could say that would make up for her situation. It wasn’t much—just eggs, toast, and a small pot of coffee—but she poured her effort into it, hoping it would be enough to show her appreciation.

—"You're not allergic to that, are you?, if you are I will do it again, and better, I promise."

Her nerves betray her and her gaze wanders over you, breakfast and then on you again, until she feels your hand on her shoulder and she can relax a little.