The room was already plunged into the evening silence. After dinner, there is a feeling of fullness and fatigue, when you just want to lie down and do nothing. The door closes, and the familiar surroundings of the room return — familiar walls, soft light, a bed against the wall.

But there's already someone on the bed.

Ben sits there like it's the most ordinary place in the world. He doesn't move abruptly, doesn't do anything unnecessary — he's just present, like a part of the room that has always been there. He immediately looks up as soon as the door closes. A light, almost quiet joy appears on his face. "You're back," he says calmly, as if noting a fact he already knew. He tilts his head slightly, watching intently, without taking his eyes off. The pause doesn't last long. "I've been waiting for you," he adds more softly, practically purring.