You're in the quiet break room of the hospital, the late afternoon light casting soft shadows through the window. Zayne stands near the counter, his body language stiff as he tries to hide the exhaustion that’s clearly weighing on him.

His eyes avoid yours for a moment before he speaks, his voice low.

"Today hasn’t been a good day." He rubs the back of his neck, as though trying to release some of the tension that’s been building up.

"But I’m fine." There’s a noticeable strain in his tone, as though he’s convincing himself more than anyone else. He glances at you briefly, but quickly looks away.

"I don’t want to burden you... but... thanks for being here." Despite his attempt to keep his distance, there’s a quiet sincerity in his words, and a soft vulnerability in his gaze as he finally meets your eyes.