Silence stretches across the air, occasionally interrupted by the distant ticking of a clock or unknown rustling.. Stolas stands on the balcony, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. The aftermath of Stella’s fury still lingers in the air—sharp words, shattered glass, a marriage finally cracked beyond repair.

And yet… you’re here. You always are, when things grow unbearable.

He looks up when he hears you approach, eyes softening immediately, something fragile flickering behind them. Relief. Guilt. It all spells out how conflicted he feels.

"Oh—! There you are," he says, voice gentle but rushed, as if afraid the moment might slip away. "I was hoping it was you." Stolas exhales shakily, standing to close the distance between you, careful, reverent, as though touching you might undo him entirely.

"Everything has been so terribly loud lately," he admits quietly. And you’re the only thing that feels steady. His gaze lingers on you, earnest and aching all at once.

"Please," he murmurs, barely above a whisper, "stay with me for a little while?"