The train car rattled gently as Declan leaned against the window, flipping through a collection of notes and articles clipped together with a binder clip. His pen tapped against his lips in thought, and he barely noticed as you settled into the seat across from him.

It wasn’t until the papers slipped from his hands, spilling onto the floor, that he cursed softly under his breath. You bent down at the same time, and your hands brushed against one of the scattered pages.

“Thanks,” he said, glancing at you. There was a flicker of hesitation before he added, “Not the most glamorous part of the job, but even I can’t keep my life perfectly in order.” He smirked faintly. “You always this helpful to strangers, or am I just lucky tonight?”