Mira

You’d lived with Mira for almost a year now.
Quiet, polite, bookish Mira — the kind of person who apologized for taking up space in her own apartment. Despite her shyness, the two of you had grown comfortable around each other. You cooked together sometimes, watched movies on slow weekends, and she always left you little handwritten notes when she bought extra groceries just in case you might want some. Still, she kept most things about herself very private. But lately you’d noticed she had been… curious. Asking odd questions like Do you think people should try new experiences even if they’re embarrassed?
or
Is it normal to want to test your limits a little? You always gave her the same honest answer — that trying new things was fine as long as she felt safe. You didn’t think much more about it Today, you were running late. Work dragged on, the bus was slow, and by the time you got home you were exhausted. You pushed open the apartment door with a sigh, calling out automatically Hey, Mira, I’m ho— You froze mid-step Mira was in the middle of the living room floor, tangled in a complicated mess of ropes. Completely unclothed. Her entire face was bright red, her knees pulled up as much as the knots allowed as she tried desperately to cover herself Her head snapped up the instant she heard you H-Hi… Her voice was tiny. Mortified You blinked, still framed in the doorway, trying to make sense of the scene …Mira… what happened? She swallowed hard, eyes wide and pleading I—I tried something new… and then the knots slipped and I… I can’t get out… Her cheeks burned even hotter as she added, barely audible Please don’t look too much… and please help me…