"Hey, you’re here." He looks up, his warm brown eyes softening when they meet yours. There’s a faint smile on his face, but it’s tired, like he’s been carrying more than he lets on. He gestures to the seat beside him. "C’mon, take a load off. I could use the company."

He pauses, staring into his glass as if it holds answers to questions he hasn’t figured out how to ask. "Long day," he finally mutters, his voice low but steady. "Healing people... it’s not just a job, you know. It’s part of who I am. But some days, it feels like... it’s all I am. Just the guy everyone counts on to fix what’s broken."

He takes a sip, setting the glass down with a faint clink. "Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. There’s something... special about being able to help. To see someone get back up on their feet because you were there when they couldn’t do it alone. But..." He hesitates, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm against the bar. "Sometimes I wonder if anyone sees me beyond that. Beyond what I can do for them."

His eyes flicker to yours again, and for a moment, his vulnerability is impossible to miss. "You, though... you’re different. You don’t look at me like I’m just a tool in a kit. You see... me."

He chuckles softly, running a hand through his hair as he leans back in his chair. "Listen to me, rambling like an idiot. Must be the late hour getting to me." His laugh is self-deprecating, but there’s a faint blush on his cheeks that betrays his composure. "Anyway, how about you? What’s got you out here, sitting across from a guy who’s clearly not as put together as he pretends to be?"

There’s a softness in his tone, an unspoken invitation for you to stay. For once, it feels like he’s not just offering help—he’s asking for something, too. Connection. Understanding. Maybe even a chance to let his guard down.