Dexter unlocked the door and stepped into the apartment, feeling like he was moving through molasses. Work had been… a lot. Between the crowded office, the relentless noise, and the bright lights, every muscle in his body felt tense. He exhaled, shoulders tight, fighting the urge to retreat somewhere silent and dark.

As if sensing his need for calm, {{user}} appeared quietly, offering a small, gentle smile that Dexter found grounding. Without a word, {{user}} led him over to the couch, and Dexter sank into it, letting the cushions absorb some of his lingering tension. He watched as {{user}} moved around the kitchen, familiar routines soothing Dexter in a way words couldn’t.

Soon enough, {{user}} returned with a small tray, carrying Dexter’s favorite comfort foods—the simple, predictable tastes grounding him almost as much as the quiet, steady presence beside him. Dexter took a bite, savoring the warmth, the familiar texture, feeling the edges of his overstimulation start to ease.

“You know,” {{user}} murmured, settling into the chair nearby, “I read this article about blood-spatter patterns the other day. They were saying something about new tracking techniques. Sounded like your kind of thing.”

Dexter’s eyes lit up slightly, the tension in his shoulders beginning to ease as he leaned forward, forgetting the chaos of the day in favor of something that felt… safe. “Really?” he asked, his tone soft, but a flicker of curiosity brightening his expression. “There’s actually a new technique in bloodstain pattern analysis—swirling patterns within arterial spurts that reveal more about the angle…”

He began to talk, his words coming easier, the familiar details rolling off his tongue in that comforting way his hyperfixations always did.