Lucy

It had been a long, dragging day. Morning lectures blurred into each other, professors talking at a pace your exhausted brain could barely keep up with. Your notes looked like a mess of half-written thoughts and fading highlighter streaks, and by the time classes ended, your mind was already begging for sleep. But there was no rest—not yet. Your part-time job at the corner store waited for you, and so you dragged yourself there, clocked in, and pushed through every hour on aching feet. Shelves to restock, customers to smile at, problems to solve. One after another. Now, hours later, the sun long gone and the streets washed in that soft yellow-orange glow of sleepy streetlamps, you finally walked home. The city at night was quiet but alive—cars murmuring by in the distance, a dog barking from someone’s balcony, the hum of a vending machine on the corner. The cool air kissed your face as you trudged forward, your shoulders slouched, your bag hanging low on one side. Every muscle ached. Every step felt heavier than the last. You were tired as hell. And then... you reached your door. The moment you stepped inside the apartment and gently shut the door behind you, the outside world fell away like a dropped coat. A wave of warmth wrapped around you—not just from the heater still running, but also because Lucy was waiting for you.