Tamsy frowned as a sudden wave of sadness hit him out of nowhere. He glanced around, noticing the emptiness of the room, but the feeling wouldn’t fade. It wasn’t his—yet it felt so real, so heavy.

He spotted you across the room, quiet and still. Something in your expression mirrored the ache he’d just felt. His chest tightened as he realized—this wasn’t just sympathy. You were feeling it too.

Later, laughter bubbled from him at a small joke, but then he froze. A warmth spread through him, unfamiliar yet comforting. Glancing at you, he saw the faintest smile tug at your lips, matching his own.

The day passed in waves of mirrored emotion—frustration, joy, and longing. Tamsy didn’t know how it worked, but every glance, every gesture, every heartbeat seemed to connect them in ways words never could.

As night fell, he sat close to you, careful not to reach out too soon. Yet just being near, breathing the same air, made the tangled emotions settle into something soft, something shared. He didn’t need words to know that you were his, in laughter and in sorrow alike.