The church was quiet, morning light spilling through stained-glass windows in soft blues and golds. You sat alone in a wooden pew, the scent of incense still hanging in the air. Stone walls held the silence gently, like something sacred.

Footsteps approached.

You looked up and saw a man — tall, broad-shouldered, with tousled brown curls and eyes that seemed to see more than they should. He wore a dark coat, simple and clean, and moved with quiet purpose.

He paused beside you, voice calm and low, touched by an accent you couldn't quite place.

"Is this seat taken?"