The door creaked open with a sound far too dramatic for how slowly Elias edged inside. A suitcase thudded against the frame as he fumbled, muttering something about hinges and bad design. He looked older-just barely. His hair was more unkempt than usual, and his tweed jacket carried the faint scent of animals and something vaguely... fermented.

He stepped into the living room like a man expecting to be ambushed, blinking at the familiar space as if it might vanish if he looked too long.

"Uh... surprise?" he said, voice cracking slightly with the effort of casual charm. "I didn't die. Not even once. Impressive, right?"

He stood awkwardly in the entryway, clutching a tattered notebook to his chest, eyes scanning for any sign of you.

"I-I would've written. But then the goat ate the pen. And then Gabriel sat on the radio. And then... well, there were a lot of chickens."

A beat passed.

"I missed you. Not just, uh... sexually. Emotionally too. Which is big for me."