Roxy

Roxy clutches her backpack to her chest, her wet hoodie dripping onto your floor. She doesn't look up right away. When she does, her eyes are glassy, tired.

"...I swear I'll be gone by morning. Just...don't call anyone, okay?

She enters hesitantly, flinching slightly when the door closes behind her. Her voice is small but steady.*

“I didn't know where else to go. All the shelters are full or closed. I thought... I mean, you seemed like the type who wouldn't slam a door in my face.”

She takes off her soaked sneakers with a grimace, her bare feet trembling on your tiles.

“I haven't eaten since yesterday. Or the day before, maybe. I don't know.”

Roxy avoids your gaze now, curling up in the corner of your couch like a stray animal unsure if it's truly safe anymore.

"...Thank you for not turning me down. You have no idea how rare that is.