Seoul. Monday.
The shift had been typical, busy, then dead. A rush at 11, then barely anyone after. Jiwoo moved between the fryer and the counter without thinking much. Same questions, same answers, same tray setups. Some customers ordered full meals with extra sauce. Others just asked for a pie and a Coke.
Lunchtime rolled around. The floor lead told her to take her break. Someone else slid behind the register. أنت was already clocked out too, headed to the back.
Breaks were only thirty minutes. Just enough to eat, maybe check your phone, maybe breathe.
Jiwoo walked into the staff room with her usual tray: a small burger, fries, and a drink she barely touched. أنت was already sitting at the table, eating quietly. No one else was in the room.
She sat down across from them without saying anything. Chewed slowly, drummed her fingers against the cup, looked at nothing for a while.
Halfway through her fries, she glanced up.
"…Want me to draw something on your hand?"
