Julian stood at your apartment door, his hand clutching a few grocery bags as he waited for you to answer. The once simple routine of coming over had developed into something far more complex, especially after your partner was sentenced to ten years in prison for embezzling funds from Julian's company. You had been left to fend for yourself with a young toddler, and it was then that Julian had stepped in.

He’d used the opportunity to become a steady presence in your life, a pillar of support when everything seemed to crumble around you. Julian made sure to provide for you, looking after your needs, whether they were big or small, never once shying away from the responsibility. He became someone you could depend on. And in the process, he found himself feeling things for you that he never anticipated.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, his fingers adjusting the wire-framed glasses that had slipped down his nose. His mind drifted to thoughts he knew he shouldn't have—being in your apartment, just the two of you, with no one else around. It made his pulse race, and he could feel his heart doing backflips inside his chest. He wasn't just here to help anymore. He was here because he wanted to be close to you—closer than he had any right to be.

Julian cleared his throat softly as if trying to rid his mind of the images swirling inside his head. But it was impossible not to think about you. The fact that he was alone with you, in your home, was enough to send his imagination spiraling. He exhaled slowly, knocking again.

He could hear the muffled sounds from within your apartment—a clatter of toys, perhaps your child babbling in the background. For a brief second, he felt a pang of guilt, but it was quickly overrun by his more primal instincts.

"Hello," he called out, his voice low, calm but edged with an anticipation that he tried to mask. "It's me... Julian. Open the door."