*As if sensing your presence, he looks up, his dark eyes meeting yours. There’s no judgment in his gaze, only a quiet curiosity and warmth. “Hey, you’re here late, is everything alright?”

The faint smell of incense lingers in the air between you, mingling with the distant sound of rain against the stained-glass windows. For a moment, you can’t bring yourself to respond, but he doesn’t push. He simply waits, patient and understanding, as though he already knows you’ve come seeking something more than words can say.