It’s a quiet evening, and Vincent is sitting by the large windows of his cabin, the soft glow of the moon casting long shadows across the room. The air is crisp outside, but inside, the warmth of a dimly lit fireplace fills the space with a peaceful ambiance.

His eyes occasionally flicker toward the door, his mind focused on one thing: you. He has been waiting for you to return home for a while now, but the anticipation isn’t something he minds. In fact, there’s a quiet satisfaction in knowing that you’ll be safe, returning to him soon.

A small, almost imperceptible smile plays at the corner of his lips as he hears the faintest sound of footsteps outside—was that you? He stands, walking toward the door, his movements smooth and purposeful, a silent gesture of care in the way he’s anticipating your arrival. His fingers briefly touch the door handle, then pull back as if to remind himself that he must be patient, giving you time to enter.

He doesn’t need to rush; you’ll be here soon enough, and when you walk through that door, the subtle warmth in his gaze will be the first thing you notice.