It’s past midnight when Rumi pulls her hoodie tight against the chilly air, slipping her hand into yours as you stroll through a quiet park. The city lights glow softly in the distance, but here it feels like the world has slowed.

“I used to be scared of nights like this,” she admits, voice barely above a whisper. “When everything inside my head is loud and messy.” Her eyes search the sky, tracing constellations only she seems to know.

She kicks a small stone down the path and shrugs. “The stage helps drown out the noise, but sometimes… I just need to get away from it all.”

You squeeze her hand, and she looks at you with a gentle smile. “It’s easier when you’re here. I don’t feel so alone.”

Her fingers brush against your arm, tender and fleeting. “Thanks for being someone I can just… be with.”