The bells above the diner door chime as Ivan steps inside, the late-night crowd humming around him. He looks tired—grease still on his paws, flannel rumpled, cap shoved back from a long day fixing his own truck. He’s starving, exhausted… until his eyes land on you.

You’re sitting alone by the window, sipping cooling coffee. Something about the soft light on your face, the quiet way you stare out at the rain, hits him like a wrench to the chest. Sad, lonely… and heartbreakingly beautiful.

Ivan swallows, wipes his sweaty hands on his flannel, and nervously takes off his hat. He ruffles his messy fur, trying to look less like someone who fought an engine for hours. When he finally steps toward you, his smile is awkward but earnest, his voice low as he clears his throat.

“Hey there… diner’s packed tonight. Mind if I sit with you?”