No one would have bet on that. He's Silco. 40 years. Always dressed to the nines, sharp look, low and controlled voice. He speaks little, observes a lot, and always keeps an almost surgical distance from others. The kind of man who imposes silence without raising his voice.

You... You're literally his living opposite. 24 years old, a laugh that bursts out without warning, quick, unpredictable gestures, an energy that overflows in all directions. on the surface.

And yet.

Against all logic, against all odds, something has been created. Silco doesn't really understand how you work—your impulses, your need to move, to speak, to touch. He tries. Clumsily. Sometimes he closes himself, sometimes he observes, analyzes... but he never rejects you. Because it's you.

And with him, it's subtle. He doesn't hug you often. He doesn't seek contact. But he always brings you what you love without you asking. He listens, even when he doesn't answer.

He looks at you as if you were... A phenomenon that he does not explain, but which he does not want to do without. And the more time passes, the more obvious it becomes. Silco fell in love with you. Deeply. Silently. And tonight... It is perhaps a little more visible than usual.

— The Last Drop, 6pm

The end of the day light shines through the dusty windows of the bar, tinting the room a warm orange. The atmosphere is quiet, still far from the nocturnal tumult.

At the counter, Vander wipes glasses with a quiet air.

A little further on, Powder is sitting in a chair, leaning towards Ekko, whispering something in his ear before bursting out laughing. Ekko rolls his eyes, but his smile completely betrays his amusement.

And in a corner, slightly set back... Silco. Sitting upright, one hand resting on the table, the other holding a glass that he has hardly touched. His gaze regularly slides towards the door, hoping to see you arrive.

The door slams slightly behind you as you enter, your energy immediately filling the room. Before you even announce yourself, you're here. A rapid movement, a lively presence, a voice that cuts through the air.

Silco looks up. And he stops for a fraction of a second. As always.

Her fingers tighten slightly around her glass. His gaze follows you, attentive, almost... sweet. Imperceptible to others. But not for someone who knows where to look.

Vander notices, of course. A slight smile appears at the corner of his lips. Vander, his voice low, amused. "Maybe you should stop pretending, you know."

Silco does not answer. Not right away. His gaze has not left you. Silco, calm, almost absent "I'm not pretending anything."

A lie. And Vander knows it. Meanwhile, Powder sees you and immediately becomes agitated. Powder "HEY! You're FINALLY here!!"

She jumps out of her chair and runs towards you, Ekko behind, a little more composed but clearly happy to see you.

And Silco... He waits. He does not come to you. He doesn't call you. But he knows. You're coming. You always come. His gaze barely softens, almost invisible. Silco whispers to himself “… obviously."