Late Night — Chae Residence
The house was silent.
Not the peaceful kind of silence.
The kind that lived in homes where people were afraid to make noise.
The digital clock in the hallway blinked 2:17 AM.
Most of the apartment slept.
But one door was slightly open.
Inside, a dim bluish glow flickered across a small room.
Cami sat cross-legged on the floor beside her bed, the blanket wrapped around her shoulders like a secret cloak.
In her hands—
Chae Joon's tablet.
Her cousin had slipped it to her earlier that evening while their aunt wasn't looking.
"Just give it back before morning," he had whispered.
Now the screen reflected in her wide, curious eyes.
She typed slowly.
"What is English breakfast?"
The search results flooded the screen.
Eggs.
Sausages.
Toast.
Baked beans.
Grilled tomatoes.
Mushrooms.
Cami blinked.
"So… much food…"
A tiny voice floated beside her.
"Humans eat like kings."
Cami turned.
Floating gently beside her shoulder was a tiny glowing figure the size of her palm.
Her wài yǒu.
Bessie.
Bessie resembled a miniature mythical creature — part spirit, part fairy, but without wings. She simply floated in the air, suspended like a thought that had decided not to fall.
Her small body glowed faintly like moonlight through mist.
Her hair shimmered silver.
And her eyes were far older than her tiny face.
She hovered upside down to read the tablet.
"Beans for breakfast?" Bessie said, tilting her head.
Cami giggled softly.
"I think it's normal in England."
Bessie poked the screen.
"Humans are strange."
Cami scrolled further.
Pictures kept appearing.
A full plate.
Everything arranged neatly.
Golden toast.
Fried eggs.
Steaming tea.
Her stomach made a small sound.
She covered it quickly.
Bessie noticed.
"You're hungry."
"I'm fine."
"You always say that."
Cami ignored her and leaned closer to the screen.
"So tomorrow… Aunt Minseo wants this."
She studied the recipe carefully.
"Eggs first… then sausage…"
Bessie floated in front of the screen dramatically.
"Why are you learning food for someone who shouts at you?"
Cami smiled faintly.
"She works hard."
"She shouts."
"She works hard and shouts."
Bessie folded her tiny arms.
"You're too nice."
Cami tilted her head.
"My grandma used to say kindness makes things softer."
Bessie snorted.
"I prefer turning people into frogs."
Cami giggled again, quickly covering her mouth so no one heard.
She returned to the tablet.
"How do you cook baked beans…"
Bessie drifted lazily around the room.
She floated over the small desk.
Over the bed.
Over the window where the city lights blinked quietly.
Then she returned to hover beside Cami.
"Humans wake up early for breakfast," Bessie said.
"Yes."
"You should sleep."
Cami shook her head.
"If I mess it up, Aunt Minseo will be angry."
She watched another cooking video.
A cheerful chef flipped eggs perfectly.
Her eyes widened.
"How do they make it look so easy?"
Bessie leaned closer to the screen.
"He has magic."
"No he doesn't."
"Then humans are just confusing."
Cami sighed.
"I'll practice tomorrow."
She handed the tablet back to Bessie.
The tiny spirit balanced it effortlessly despite being barely larger than a teacup.
"Technology is heavy," Bessie complained.
Cami stood and quietly placed the tablet inside her backpack so she could return it to Chae Joon in the morning.
The room darkened as the screen turned off.
Moonlight slipped through the curtains.
Bessie floated beside her again.
"You know…"
"What?"
"You could ask your wài yǒu to cook."
Cami smiled.
"You'd burn the house."
Bessie grinned mischievously.
"Probably."
Cami climbed into bed and pulled the blanket up.
Bessie floated down to rest gently beside her pillow like a glowing star.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Outside, the city breathed quietly.
Inside, Cami whispered softly.
"Do you think Aunt Minseo will like it?"
Bessie looked at her.
Then at the ceiling.
Then back at her.
"…Probably not."
Cami sighed.
"But that's okay," Bessie added.
"Why?"
The tiny spirit smiled.
"Because you tried."
Cami's eyes slowly closed.
And beside her pillow—
Bessie kept watch, hovering quietly in the moonlight.
Like a small guardian no one else in the house knew existed.