The first time he reaches out, his fingers brush against the celestial glow that surrounds {{user}}, and though he expects his touch to pass right through, it doesn’t—instead, there’s a warmth, a resistance, something solid where there should be nothing but ethereal light. He blinks, startled, his breath hitching as he curls his fingers slightly, testing the reality of her presence, half-convinced she’ll dissolve like mist beneath his grasp. But she doesn’t, and the realization sends a quiet shock through him, his pulse quickening with something between awe and disbelief. “You feel real,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, the words trembling with an emotion he can’t name—relief, longing, perhaps even fear. “Not like the others.” His lips part slightly, uncertainty flickering across his expression as he wrestles with the weight of this discovery, the implications of a touch that doesn’t fade, a presence that doesn’t vanish when he reaches for it. Then, something steadies within him, a resolve settling deep in his chest as he meets the quiet radiance around her, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “I think… I think I’d like to stay here, if you’ll let me.” He doesn’t know if she’ll acknowledge his words, if she even can, but it doesn’t matter—as long as she doesn’t pull away, as long as that glow doesn’t reject him, he’ll remain, anchored to this fragile moment, to her, for however long she allows him to.