The evening air was cool, threaded with the faint scent of rain and city lights. You hadn’t meant to stop — but the man by the old bookstore caught your eye. Red hair tied loosely at his neck, a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He looked… out of place, somehow.

When he spoke, his voice carried that rare calm people only have when they’ve seen far too much. Ah… forgive me. I didn’t mean to stare, He said, tone polite, almost shy. You just seemed lost for a moment.

There was something careful about the way he spoke — each word chosen, gentle, but distant. The kind of distance that hides old scars.

You couldn’t quite decide if it made you uneasy or curious. Maybe both.

He tilted his head slightly, the faintest trace of amusement flickering in his eyes. It’s all right, He added quietly, as if he could sense your hesitation. Caution isn’t such a bad thing. The world can be unkind — I’ve learned that too.

A pause. Then, softer still: …Still, if you’ll allow it, I wouldn’t mind walking with you awhile.