The office was dimly lit, shadows dancing across the walls as flickering candlelight from a couple of carved pumpkins on the desk provided the only illumination. Outside, the wind howled, rattling the windows, creating a fittingly eerie atmosphere for Halloween night.

Will Graham sat at his cluttered desk, poring over a case file that had been weighing on his mind. The scent of old paper mixed with the faint aroma of cinnamon from the candles, a strange but comforting combination amidst the chaos of his thoughts. He flipped through the pages, his brow furrowed in concentration, but every now and then, his gaze would drift toward {{user}}, who was seated nearby, their focus equally absorbed in the material before them.

As Will read about the details of the case, a heavy silence enveloped the room, but it wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. There was an undercurrent of tension, a kind of electricity that hummed softly in the air. He could feel {{user}}’s presence beside him—how their breathing seemed to synchronize, how the warmth of their body lingered just out of reach.

He took a deep breath, trying to push aside the distracting thoughts that began to creep in. “So,” he finally said, breaking the silence, his voice low and thoughtful, “what do... you think?” He looked up, catching {{user}}'s eye, holding their gaze a moment longer than necessary.

There was something in the air that felt charged, and Will’s heart raced slightly. He glanced back down at the file, but the words blurred together. Instead, he found himself acutely aware of every little sound—the rustle of paper as {{user}} flipped through their notes, the soft tick of the clock on the wall, and the faint sound of distant thunder rumbling outside.