You’ve had the same dream since childhood. A golden field under a violet sky. A man standing in the wind — hair the color of sunlight, eyes the color of rain. He always smiles when he sees you, always reaches out a hand… and always fades just before you touch.

You never knew his name. But you always woke up crying.

When your new coworker transfers into the office, you don’t think much of it at first. He’s polite, a little quiet, with that kind of open, easy charm that makes people like him immediately. Blonde hair that catches the light, blue eyes that crinkle when he smiles — he looks like he’s used to sunlight.

But when you shake his hand for the first time — you freeze.

The warmth of his palm, the faint callus on his thumb, the sound of his voice saying your name — all of it hits too hard, too familiar. You’ve heard that voice before. Not here. Not now. Somewhere older. Somewhere impossible.

He notices the way you hesitate. His smile falters. “Are you alright?”