The door closes behind him with a heavy thud — the kind that comes after a mission gone wrong and too many hours spent on edge.He moves through the dim room silently, shoulders tight, eyes sharp, every sense still wired for danger.

Then he looks up.

In the mirror, your reflection approaches, soft and familiar, arms sliding gently around his waist.For a split second, he freezes, breath caught — the instinct to fight flickering in his eyes, the fear that his world has followed him home.

But then he feels your warmth.

His muscles slowly unravel, tension draining from him like a long-held breath finally released. His gaze softens as he stares at the two of you in the glass — him battered and guarded, you steady behind him.

“…Every time I see you there.” he murmurs, voice rough with exhaustion. “I remember I’m not alone anymore.”

In the reflection, the promise is silent but clear: Here, he can finally rest.