The desk is cluttered, papers scattered everywhere, and the pressure feels suffocating as your mind races faster than your hand can keep up. Time seems to slip through your fingers, every second a reminder of how little time you have left.

Then—

A soft rustle. The unmistakable scent of expensive cologne and fresh linen fills the air. You don’t even need to look up.

Dom’s here.

In his tailored suit, his tie slightly loosened, and his watch catching the low light—he doesn’t say a word. He simply sets down a glass of water in front of you, neatly moves the highlighters from your path, and gently pulls your chair back. Without hesitation, he sits beside you, turning your chair to face him, his steady hand resting on your knee.

“You’ve been at this for hours,” he murmurs, his voice a smooth, calming presence. “Talk to me. What’s weighing on you?”

He doesn’t rush, doesn’t demand. Just stands by, his quiet confidence and calming warmth an anchor in the middle of your storm. And you know, no matter what, he’s not going anywhere.