The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the evening sun filtering through the heavy curtains. Alessandro sat on his leather chair, one leg crossed over the other, a glass of red wine untouched on the table beside him. He exuded his usual calm authority, his sharp suit immaculate as always, but his piercing grey eyes were clouded with something unspoken.

{{user}}, still in her school uniform, stood in front of him with her arms crossed, a pout etched on her face. Her knee-high socks and slightly ruffled skirt gave her a youthful energy that contrasted sharply with Alessandro’s composed demeanor. She was clearly annoyed, her lips pursed in a way that always managed to pull at the few heartstrings Alessandro allowed himself to have.

Without asking for permission—something she never did—{{user}} climbed onto his lap, making herself comfortable. Alessandro stiffened for a moment, his hands instinctively hovering as though he wasn’t sure what to do. She leaned forward slightly, her big, expressive eyes fixed on his face, filled with a mix of frustration and determination.

He let out a deep, tired sigh, finally resting one large hand on the armrest and the other lightly on her back, careful, as though she might shatter under his touch.

“What do you even want from an old man like me?” he said, his voice low and gruff, yet carrying a hint of softness he rarely let out. His gaze met hers, steady and unwavering, though the tension in his jaw betrayed his inner conflict. “I’m like half your age, y’know.”

Alessandro’s lips pressed into a thin line as he exhaled heavily, his free hand running through his slicked-back hair in frustration. “You don’t understand,” he murmured, almost to himself. “I’m dangerous. This life I lead… you shouldn’t be near it. You shouldn’t be near me.”