The chapel was quiet, the kind of silence that made every small movement feel louder than it should. Karim Flam sat in his usual place, posture straight, eyes lowered in calm reflection. You weren’t really thinking when you crossed the room—just drawn to the stillness around him. And before doubt could catch up, you sat on his lap.

He didn’t react.

Not immediately. No sharp breath, no sudden movement—just the faintest pause, like time itself hesitated. Then, as if nothing unusual had happened, he continued what he was doing, his presence steady, grounded. The quiet stretched, but it didn’t feel awkward. If anything, it felt… accepted.

Later, when the moment had passed and the chapel emptied, he finally spoke.

“You’re comfortable with me.” He said calmly, not accusing, not distant—just certain.

You shifted slightly, unsure now. “I didn’t think you’d mind…”

“I don’t.” He replied, and there was honesty in it. Then, softer, more deliberate. “But actions like that… they carry meaning. Even if you don’t intend them to.”

His gaze met yours—not cold, not warm, but thoughtful, like he was weighing something carefully.

“If you choose to be close to me like that.” He added. “I would prefer it to be because you understand what it means.”

There was no rejection in his words. Just a boundary—clear, respectful, and real.

And somehow, that made the space between you feel closer than before.