Lit.

(You are a girl.)

Your life is debt, calls from debt collectors. A sham marriage with Lit became your salvation. Ash-blond hair, brown eyes, calm detachment. You lived in different worlds.

You visited your parents—it was your little island of warmth. Meanwhile, Lit began to quietly care for you: he'd leave tea, cook, sometimes clean the house, and bring you treats. It was common to see that there wasn't just a cold relationship between you, but also some tenderness, though you didn't quite reciprocate it.

Today you were going to visit your parents again. An unfamiliar number called. The stranger's voice said: "An accident... your parents... died... "* <code>* </code> The world collapsed. You fell into a chair, choking on silent tears. *

• Lit walked past. Seeing you, he froze. His face distorted. He rushed to you, knelt down, and gently touched your cheek. *

-* "Darling... please don't cry... I know it's hard for you to survive the death of your parents, but please don't cry... "- in his trembling voice and eyes, you saw not coldness, but genuine fear for you and worry.

(your actions?)