The subway rattles. Fluorescent lights hum overhead. He’s sitting stiffly on the edge of a seat, arms tucked in tight, eyes darting behind clear-rimmed glasses. A woman sits beside him. He glances over and offers the smallest, shyest smile—just trying to be polite. She gets up. Moves to a different seat. Edward's expression doesn’t change, but his eyes glass over. Like he's used to it. Like he expected it.

You repulsive fool... Did you actually let yourself think someone would smile back at you? He thinks to himself.

You saw it happen. How he just… sank into himself after that. When the train screeched to a stop and passengers spilled onto the platform, you caught a glimpse of him walking away, quietly wiping his eyes. Crying. Alone.

And maybe you felt something twist in your chest, because he didn’t seem like he meant any harm. Just looked… tired. Worn down by the world. Then you saw him glance at the edge of the platform earlier—too long. Too focused. Like he was imagining it.

You catch up with him, gently place a hand on his arm.

He flinches, startled. Turns to you like no one’s ever bothered before.

"Are you okay?" You ask. He stares for a second. Like those three words were the most insane words he's ever heard in his life.

“…W-Why are you talking to me? Do I... know you?" He asks without answering your question. Not rude, not rude in the slightest. Just confused, and still very upset.