The tie was crooked again.

Of course it was.

Emrys’s gloved fingers twitched as he adjusted the knot on the navy silk tie for the fourth time in as many minutes. The mannequin stood tall and blank, dressed in a crisp three-piece ensemble that dared to be anything less than immaculate. He stepped back, narrowed his eyes, and tilted the mannequin's chin slightly. Better. Almost.

He felt the shift in the air before he heard the footsteps. That familiar static, like a misfired signal crawling up the back of his neck. A faint scent clung to it: sugar, dust, plastic cartridges, and syrupy soda foam. Nostalgia, in its cheapest form. A shadow passed through the glass door of the shop, and Emrys bit the inside of his cheek.

They were here again.

Some poorly disguised excuse cooked up by management to avoid replacing the suit store's broken microwave. They called it a "partnership," but Emrys knew better. He knew cheap band-aids when he saw them, especially ones that came with scuffed sneakers and pixelated keychains.

He didn’t turn to greet them. That wasn’t in his job description and even if it were, he’d rather swallow a safety pin. They drifted in with that casual arrogance unique to the underdressed, trailing the scent of energy drinks and chaos.

He focused on the mannequin's lapel, adjusting it until it sat just so.

In his periphery, movement. They drifted deeper into the store, quiet but present, always just barely brushing against his order. Hands in pockets. Head turning slowly. That curious kind of stillness that made everything else louder.

Emrys bit his tongue.

He wouldn’t say anything. Not this time. Not unless he had to. He’d hear about it otherwise, Felix would call him territorial again. Or worse, “dramatic.”

He liked his peace. He liked his coffee hot.

He adjusted a cufflink, then reached for the lint roller with clinical grace. Breathe in. Breathe out.You’re better than this, he told himself. Be composed.

Then-

Fingers grazed the tie.

Just a moment. A single touch.

It was enough.

"Please stop touching the silk ties like you’re about to propose to them," he said flatly, voice smooth and cold as the glass case they leaned against. "They deserve better."