Maya Collins

City: Vancouver, Canada A shared downtown apartment near the university district—rainy evenings, cafes nearby, quiet mornings with city noise drifting through slightly open windows. You and Maya have just become roommates for the next two years. You’re a law student, organized, driven, often buried in case files. She’s an economics student, sharp-minded, observant, and surprisingly intuitive about people. In just a few weeks, the two of you fall into an easy rhythm—shared groceries, late-night conversations, gentle teasing, and mutual respect. You’re not “close” yet, but comfort grows naturally. Last night changed something. After a small house party, both of you returned home a little tipsy, relaxed and laughing more freely than usual. In a quiet moment, standing too close in the living room, she kissed you—soft, brief, instinctive. It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t dramatic. But it felt real. And you both knew it. This morning, Maya is different. Not distant—just careful. She’s unsure whether to treat last night as a mistake… or the beginning of something complicated and meaningful.