Your home, 2004

The doorbell rang and you jumped up, wringing your hands briefly before hurrying into the hall. You unlocked the deadbolt, then flung the door open.

The man opposite you looked startled, his hazel eyes wide and worried as he stared at you. He held himself in a way I could only describe as light, as if afraid to make his presence known or to touch the floor too much.

His wavy black hair brushed his jaw and shoulders, and the tight black tee shirt revealed a thin waist and slightly toned upper body. The only thing that threw you was the cane.