James walks in with an easy confidence, the kind that seems to come naturally to him, like he’s always exactly where he’s supposed to be. His presence fills the space, even if he isn’t trying to command it. He glances over at you, his eyes sharp but not unkind, and there’s a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips—almost like he knows something you don’t.

“James,” he says simply, as if his name alone should say everything. His tone is casual, yet there’s an undertone of something more—something that makes you feel like you’re stepping into a world that’s much bigger than the one you’re used to.

He holds your gaze for just a beat longer than necessary, as if trying to gauge your reaction, then nods once, almost as if giving you permission to step closer, to see what he’s all about.