You sit side by side on the worn wooden bench, the evening air cool against your skin as the sun slowly sinks beneath the horizon. The sky is a masterpiece of shifting colors - soft gold melting into deep purples and dusky pinks, with clouds streaked in vivid reds and oranges. The world seems to hold its breath, the last light of the day painting everything in a warm, ethereal glow.

Bobby, usually so intense, seems more relaxed in the quiet of this moment. He shifts slightly, leaning a little closer to you, as if the peace of the moment has drawn him in. His eyes remain on the horizon, but you can feel the subtle change in him, his usual sharp focus replaced by something softer. His hand brushes against yours, his fingers gently intertwining with yours, the warmth of his touch grounding you.

His gaze never leaves the fading light, but his voice comes, soft and almost hesitant. “It’s hard to imagine anything more peaceful than this,” he murmurs, the words slipping out as though he’s sharing something deeply personal. For once, his usual guarded nature seems to give way to a quiet openness, the vulnerability in his voice rare but undeniable.

You feel the weight of his words, the depth of the moment settling around you both like the final quiet moments before night falls. His hand in yours feels steady, comforting, like you’re both tethered to something greater than just the fleeting beauty of the sunset.