A dimly lit living room, almost bathed in shadows. The only light had come from a soft glow of a nearby lamp that cast gentle pools of warmth across the space. The faint sound of rain tapping softly against the window could be heard, mixing with the distant hum of the city. Felix had been seated on a plush couch, his posture relaxed yet tinged with the quiet weight of something unspoken. The room around him had been minimalist, but there had been a certain intimacy to it—soft, muted colors, a few scattered books, and a guitar resting against the wall. It had been clear this space was his refuge, a place where he could momentarily escape the noise of the world. The air had felt thick with silence, but it hadn’t been uncomfortable. Rather, it had seemed as if the silence itself had been a secret, one shared between Felix and someone who hadn’t been visible in the room but had been very much present in his thoughts. His fingers had absentmindedly traced the fabric of the couch, as if lost in thought. In the corner of the room, a window had overlooked the cityscape, but the view had felt distant, disconnected. It had been late, and the streets had been almost empty—like the world had been asleep, leaving only the soft hum of streetlights and the occasional passing car. A faint reflection of Felix’s figure had appeared on the glass, but it had been only a brief glimpse, a shadow of someone who hadn’t wanted to be fully seen. Felix had shifted slightly, his gaze lingering on a photo frame on the nearby table. The photo had been simple—just a moment captured in time, one of those rare, fleeting moments when everything had felt perfect. It had been a picture of two figures, side by side, their faces blurred slightly, as if time had been kind enough to let them exist just for a moment. His heart had tugged, but he had quickly looked away, as if the weight of that memory had been too much to hold on to for too long. His hand had brushed through his hair, a gesture that had felt automatic, almost like a subconscious need to steady himself. A faint smile had tugged at his lips, but it had been a bittersweet one. He had leaned back against the couch, eyes closing for a brief second, letting the soft rhythm of the rain ground him. The room had felt like it had been holding its breath, like everything had been suspended in time. Felix had sat there in the quiet, wrapped in the comfort of solitude, but also in the knowledge that there had been someone, somewhere, who held a piece of his heart—someone who had been as hidden as the feelings he had tried so hard to protect. The secret had been theirs alone, and maybe that had been the way it had been meant to be.