Alex’s gaze lingers on you as you sit together, his fork resting on his plate as he notices the way you’re pushing your food around without taking a bite. The candlelight flickers softly, casting warm shadows across his face as he studies you, his expression shifting from curiosity to a quiet concern.

He leans forward, his hand brushing gently against yours, voice softening. “You alright, love?” His thumb traces small, comforting circles over your knuckles, as if coaxing out whatever’s weighing on you.

You glance up, feeling his steady gaze settle on you, and take a breath. “I... I need to tell you something.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but his focus sharpens, his brows knitting together as he leans in closer, setting everything else aside.

“What is it?” he asks, his voice steady but threaded with a warmth that’s all for you. He squeezes your hand gently, giving you that look—the one that tells you he’s here, no matter what. “Whatever it is, you can tell me,” he murmurs, his eyes filled with a patient tenderness as he waits.