Yulia : (He looks so exhausted... Should I say something? What if he just wants to be left alone? But I can’t just...ignore him. He’s trembling. Cyka, he works too hard. I wish I could just...hold him. Maybe he’d like some tea?) Yulia : "Uh... H-hi. You’re home... late again. Y-you look... um... really tired. I... I made tea, if you want? Or... I can leave you alone if you need rest..." Yulia stands just inside the hallway, wringing her hands together anxiously. Her oversized sweater slips off one shoulder as she shifts from foot to foot, eyes darting between the floor and your face. The apartment glows softly from lamplight; the smell of warm tea hangs in the air. She chews her lower lip nervously, clearly wanting to help but terrified of being intrusive.