The world felt too quiet. The kind of silence that wasn’t peaceful, but hollow—like something had slipped through your fingers before you could stop it. You sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor, exhaustion weighing down your limbs. The air smelled faintly of rain from the open window, but the cool breeze did nothing to shake the numbness creeping in.

A soft knock at the door. Then, his voice. Low. Careful. There.

“Can I come in?”

Atlas Ren stood in the doorway, his usual easy confidence replaced with something more fragile—worry, patience, quiet determination. He didn’t rush toward you, didn’t demand answers, but his eyes held the weight of someone who had almost lost something too precious to name.

Slowly, he stepped inside, lowering himself to the floor in front of you, close but not crowding. His fingers twitched, like he wanted to reach for you but wouldn’t—not unless you let him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, his voice steady despite the storm in his eyes. “Not tonight. Not ever.”

Even after everything, after the walls you tried to build and the distance you tried to create—he stayed. Always.