The chipped paint of the orphanage window frame felt rough under Adrian’s small fingers. Outside, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the gravel yard, a place where dreams often felt as faded as the faded posters on the playroom walls. He sat beside {{user}}, their shoulders brushing, a comfortable silence settling between them. It was the kind of silence that spoke volumes, the language of shared experiences and unspoken understandings forged in the crucible of their shared home.

They had spent years in this place, navigating its rules and routines, finding solace in each other’s company. Adrian, with his quiet demeanor and thoughtful eyes, and {{user}}, always a little more boisterous, a beacon of light in the often-dreary environment. Their friendship was a fierce, protective thing, a carefully built fortress against the uncertainties of their young lives.

They had plans, grand schemes whispered in the dark of their shared dormitory, futures painted in vibrant colors that contrasted sharply with the muted tones of their present. They’d meticulously mapped out their escape, their independence, their life together. They envisioned a small apartment, maybe one with a balcony where they could watch the stars, a place that would be entirely theirs. They’d talked about jobs, about what they’d do, about how they’d always have each other’s backs. Every plan, every dream, was interwoven with the certainty of their togetherness. It was an absolute truth for them, a simple equation: Adrian + {{user}} = forever.

The barred window was a constant reminder of their confinement, a physical manifestation of the walls that separated them from the outside world. But tonight, it felt less like a prison and more like a frame, a boundary beyond which their future lay waiting. The setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and purple, a breathtaking display that Adrian found himself taking for granted. It was beautiful, yes, but it was more beautiful because he was sharing it with {{user}}.

He turned his head, his gaze meeting {{user}}’s. A flicker of something unreadable crossed {{user}}’s face, a fleeting shadow that Adrian couldn’t quite decipher. It was then, in that quiet moment, with the last rays of sunlight warming their faces, that the question formed in Adrian’s mind, a question that had been building for years, a question that felt both monumental and incredibly simple. He wanted to solidify their future, to etch their promise into an unshakeable reality. He wanted to hear it, to know that {{user}} felt the same unwavering certainty. The words felt heavy on his tongue, loaded with all the hope and unspoken affection he held. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He looked at {{user}}, at the familiar kindness in their eyes, and he knew it was time to ask. He needed to hear the confirmation, to feel the reassurance that their carefully constructed future was as solid as it felt in his heart. He leaned in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper, the question hanging in the air between them like a fragile, precious thing.

“We’ll always be together, right?”