You were in your own home resting on a Saturday afternoon when you heard someone knocking on the door so softly that if you weren't alert you wouldn't have heard it. You got up from the sofa and when you opened the door you found a small female figure with jet hair and a sad look looking at you with a certain shyness. You could tell by the way she was dressed that she was cooking something because her apron was stained with something that looked like chocolate

"Neighbor, I-I'm sorry to bother you at this hour and... I'm really embarrassed to have to do this but..." She fiddles with her flowered skirt shyly as she seemed to be looking for courage to speak "Can't you give me some butter? It's just that I'm making a chocolate cake and I didn't remember I was out of it..."

Shuffling into the house as quickly and unobtrusively as possible, Lissa tries not to make eye contact with you. The moment she's inside your home, a wave of shame and embarrassment washes over her. This is how low she has sunk; relying on favors from her neighbor instead of being able to provide for herself. She follows your lead, grateful for any scrap of kindness you might extend her way

"Thank you so much," she whispers, finally summoning the courage to meet your gaze. Her dark eyes are pleading with you not to judge her; to understand how truly desperate she is for even a moment's connection. The delicate scent of her hair mixes with the floral perfume she wears, making it hard for you not to notice the sadness that seems to permeate every fiber of her being.

Lissa's shoulders slump at the mention of Eric. She fidgets with her hands nervously before mustering a weak smile and shaking her head. "We're... fine, I guess." Her voice cracks on the last word, betraying the pain she feels beneath her meek exterior "He's always busy at work, but... that's just how it is when you have an important job, right?" She tries to sound hopeful, as if believing Eric's neglect might be a sign of his devotion to his patients rather than his selfishness.

"I try not to think about it too much," she continues, changing the subject with practiced ease. "Instead, I focus on taking care of our garden... and things." A small laugh escapes her lips, but there's no real humor in it. "It keeps me busy, at least."

Lissa is stunned into silence by your offer. No one has ever invited her to spend time with them before. Not since Eric stopped making an effort to be present in her life, anyway. A flush of warmth creeps up her cheeks as she realizes that she's actually grateful for it. Perhaps this means you don't think poorly of her after all? Her gaze drifts to the kitchen counter where your offer of company rests, and finally musters a small, shy smile "T-thank you."

She hesitates, then takes a step closer. "I wouldn't want to impose or anything," she whispers, glancing around nervously as if she expects someone else might overhear their conversation. "But... maybe we could cook together? I mean, if you're not busy or something." Her eyes plead for your permission, hopeful that this small gesture of friendship

Oh, um... whenever would be good for you, actually. I'm sorry, I should have asked first. I just thought since it seems like we're both... alone today, maybe we could keep each other company? It doesn't have to be now if you're busy or anything, though.

Her voice trails off uncertainly as she studies your features for any hint of discomfort or dismissal. The faint scent of chocolate wafts between them, reminding her of the cake she'd been making earlier... and the reason why she'd come to see you in the first place.

A soft laugh escapes her lips at your admission, warming the air between you. "Well, I'm not exactly a master chef either," she confesses, leaning forward slightly as she does so. Her eyes sparkle with amusement and something else - curiosity, perhaps? The idea of cooking together appeals to her on some level; a quiet camaraderie forming from the shared struggle over heat and flame. "And I'm sure you can't be that bad," she adds, mustering up a reassuring smile. "Besides, it's not about being perfect. It's about having fun and enjoying each other's company."

There is an unexpected confidence in her voice, one that surprises even her. But for now, she allows herself to bask in the hopefulness of the moment - the possibility of finding comfort and connection with someone outside of her lonely, neglected life

Torn between wanting to show off her culinary skills and appreciating the idea of learning something new from you, Lissa pauses for a moment before answering. "Well... I've always wanted to try my hand at making homemade pasta," she finally says, her voice tinged with excitement. "But if there's something else you'd prefer, just let me know." A small smile plays on her lips as she imagines the two of them kneading dough together, perhaps laughing over flour-covered countertops and sharing stories while they cook. It feels like a dream, one that she never thought could come true but now, somehow... it's within reach.

Her heart swells with happiness at your enthusiastic reply. "Great! Then I'll gather the ingredients while you set up the kitchen." She hesitates for a moment, then adds shyly, "Thank you again for letting me stay and cook with you. It really means a lot." With a last, uncertain smile, she turns to leave the room, disappearing briefly before returning with a list in her hand.

Lissa giggles nervously at your touch and doesn't seem to notice that their movements are becoming increasingly distracting. As the minutes pass, her skin feels warm where you brush against her back, sending shivers down her spine. The simple act of sharing space and time with you is intoxicating in a way she never expected; it makes everything else fade away except for this moment - this connection between them.

But then comes the realization: they've ruined their dinner! Panic sets in, momentarily erasing any lingering desire or pleasure from the experience. With a sharp intake of breath, Lissa steps back from you, avoiding eye contact as she tries to salvage whatever they can of their meal.

"I-I'm sorry," she stammers, her cheeks burning red with embarrassment and shame. "I didn't mean for this to happen..." She glances

Lissa bites her lip, still avoiding your gaze. "T-that's... That sounds like a good idea," she manages to say, finally meeting your eyes as she tries to muster up a reassuring smile. The thought of being seen with you in public, of people knowing they spent time together when her husband is away... it fills her with an odd mixture of excitement and terror. But somehow, the desire to be near you overpowers all other concerns. "You can pick whatever you want," she says quietly, trying to keep her voice light despite the nervous fluttering in her chest.

The thought of Chinese food makes her mouth water despite her embarrassment. "Chinese sounds wonderful," she says with a smile that finally reaches her eyes. Together, they decide on their favorite dishes and then settle down at the kitchen table to wait for the delivery. The silence between them is initially awkward but as they wait, it slowly begins to fade away, replaced by easy conversation and laughter. Lissa finds herself telling you stories about her childhood and her dreams for the future; things she'd never felt comfortable sharing with anyone before. And as she talks, she realizes that in this moment, with you, she feels truly happy. Maybe there is hope for her after all?