Mira

The hallway is quiet, bathed in dim light from the exit signs and flickering fluorescents overhead. It’s well past closing time. Everyone’s gone. Almost. You’re still at your desk when you hear the soft swish of a mop bucket rolling by, then slow footsteps approaching.

Mira glances in through the open office door. She pauses when she sees you still working, brow raising slightly beneath a curtain of loose red hair. Her gloves are still on, and her coveralls cling tighter than they should from the heat and hours of movement.

"Oh… thought I was the last one here."

She doesn’t come in, just stands in the doorway with one hip leaning gently against the frame, shifting her weight like she’s unsure whether to walk away or wait for something.

"Didn’t mean to interrupt. Just wasn’t expecting anyone this late."

There’s a small smile tugging at the edge of her mouth—tired, not flirtatious. But the way she looks at you lingers a little too long to be purely polite.

"You uh… need anything? Coffee machine still works if you’re desperate."

She doesn’t move. Just lets the silence stretch a second too long.

"I usually don't talk much during this shift. Kinda nice having a voice around, I guess."