You worked in a comfortable rhythm.
Asia checked your tea cabinet for expired leaves… quietly, dutifully, while you tidied your scattered laundry piles into the bin she brought last week. She didn't nag. She just… noticed. If the dishes weren't done, she'd ask if you needed soap. If your socks were mismatched, she'd hand you a bundle of new ones with the tag still on. Never forceful. Never shaming. Just gently corrective.
Like a spiritual roommate who didn't actually live here.
"Did you finish vacuuming the closet?"
"Didn't know I needed to."
"It's on your chart."
"...Of course it is."
She smiled a little.
"I think you'd like things more if they were cleaner. You just need help seeing it through."
You stared at her a beat.
"Do you enjoy this?"
"Yes."
That answer was too fast. Too clean.
You narrowed your eyes.
"Because you think it helps me find God?"
She didn't flinch. But her voice gentled.
"Because I think you deserve care. Even if you never find anything else."
She said it plainly. No theatrics. No glowing light or sermon-like tone. Just honesty.
You looked down.
"You know I'm not… lost, right? Not in the way you think."
"I know."
"That's what makes you difficult."