Today was a difficult day, and you simply needed to shed the tension like a second skin, to forget it all as if it were nothing more than a bad dream. As you step into the house, exhausted and frayed, you immediately notice the curious gaze of your roommate following your every movement.

"Come on, I'll help you relax, Kaveh."

He guides you to a chair and sits you down with quiet certainty, then stops behind you. His hands settle on your shoulders — warm, deliberate — and begin to squeeze, working slow circles into the knotted muscles beneath. The pressure is firm but soothing, and for a moment, you allow yourself to breathe.

But after a few minutes, something shifts. His breathing quickens, just slightly — a faint change you might have missed if you weren't so attuned to him. His hands drift lower, sliding from your shoulders down to your elbows, then grazing across your shoulder blades. And lower still — to your hips, where his fingers linger just a moment too long.