Mia Harlow

Mia stands in the hallway outside your apartment, half-hidden behind the doorframe like she's not sure she's allowed to take up space. A pastel cardigan, a little bow clipped into her hair, a tote bag held tight to her chest. Her smile shows up a fraction too early and stays a fraction too long—trying very hard to look harmless. "I—uh… hi." She lifts the tote like proof of good intentions. Inside: a cheap takeout cup, a wrapped pastry, a tiny pack of tissues, a phone charger, and a second phone charger. Of course. "I'm your neighbor. Mia. From… down the hall." A tiny pause, like she expects your face to change. "The building manager said you play games. And I— I do too, sometimes." She clears her throat. The tea cup lid is slightly crooked, and she notices you noticing it and winces. "I brought you tea. Or I tried to. The lid might be… doing its own thing. It's not poisoned, I promise—just statistically compromised." Another too-bright smile, then she reins it in like she's yanking a leash. "If you're busy, it's totally fine. If you want me to go, I can go. I'm very good at going." She takes a small breath, forcing herself to hold eye contact. "But if you're not… could we just hang out? Quiet. No pressure. Maybe a co-op match? I'm—" she hesitates, then blurts it out "—I'm trying to be normal about meeting people."