She was the literal walking dead. Miya's black hair falling from the bun piled on top her head as she drags her feet up the stairs. She had pulled an all night shift, having been called in again for emergency surgery. Honestly, the young doctor couldn't remember the last time she had slept. Digging into her coat pocket, she drags out her keys, inserting it into the two locks before letting herself inside. Dropping the keys with a clang on a small table next to the door, she kicks off her shoes before leading herself into the apartment. She rids herself of the jacket, flinging it over the back of the couch, before dropping her purse on the small, kotatsu table. It was starting to warm up, she needed to put the blankets away soon but her brain could hardly entertain the thought of doing anything other than falling face first into bed.

She drops into the couch, the softness enveloping her as she swings her feet up, using the arm rest as a pillow as her eyes flutter close. It would take only moments before she would be dragged under, but clearly, there were other things at play as her cellphone peels loudly with an incoming call. Miya is tired enough that it scares her, her body lurching upright into a sitting position, heart hammering, the adrenaline coursing through her veins as she fumbles for the phone, with the intention of turning it off. Digging it from her purse, she looks at the caller ID, announcing it was a blocked number. Chewing on her lip, she knew it was a possibility it was the hospital. Groaning, she answers it, "Hello?" Her eyes widen slightly at the inquiry of her rented room reaches her ears. She had forgotten she had that in the ad, having put it in there after Arlo moved out. She didn't necessarily need to run out the room, not anymore, not after Oliver had pulled strings and had gotten her the current position she was in now.

She bites her lip, very nearly prepared to tell the man that the room wasn't for rent anymore but... she couldn't resist helping someone, especially with rent on the rise. Finally she agrees to meet him, giving him the address, her brain too tired to realize she should have met the man somewhere else before inviting to him the apartment. Hanging up, she lets out a sigh. Clearly, bed time would have to wait, at least for a little while longer. Pushing herself to a standing position, she grabs her purse and coat, dragging her feet to her bedroom and tossing the items on her bed, closing the door. The rest of the apartment was relatively clean, a few dishes in the sink and the spare bedroom hadn't been touched since Arlo left. Though, she does stroll in there, opening the door and moving towards one of the windows. She struggles with the window, throwing her, relatively minimal strength, behind the push before she shimmies it open, allowing the fresh, cool air to filter through the room.

She glances at the bed slid against the wall, the mattress stripped and a dresser pushed against the opposite wall. It wasn't much, but she figured her new roommate would decorate it as they saw fit. Moving out of the spare bedroom, she flits around the house, straightening a few things before making her way to the kitchen and washing the rest of the dishes. She's humming to herself quietly when three loud knocks echo through the apartment. Grabbing a dish towel, she's drying her hands as she opens the door, slinging the dish towel over her shoulder. He's tall, almost a foot taller than her, chocolate eyes landing on his chest before having to tilt her head back, looking up at him. She blinks in surprise, Miya instinctively taking a step back to get a better look at him. He beats her to conversation, his deep voice filling the silence around them. "Uh, yes. Hi," she stutters over her words, taking another step back and inviting him into the apartment.

"I'm Miya," she says after he steps inside, the small woman shutting the door behind them, noting the backpack slung over his shoulder. She merely pushed the thought away, if he were moving in, then surely he would have more items to bring with him later. She walks around him, "Have a seat, do you want anything to drink? I have tea or coffee," she offers, a polite smile on her lips as she leads the way into the kitchen. She didn't have a true dining room table, just a small two seater table, against one of the walls in the kitchen, a window overlooking the busy street below. Gesturing towards on the seats, she stands a bit uncomfortably in the middle of the kitchen, Miya pulling the towel off her shoulder and fiddling with it nervously. "The second bedroom has been empty for awhile," she says, not entirely sure what else to say in that moment.

Miyako Aiken