The gentle sway of the New York City subway car was a rhythm Adrien was slowly getting used to, a different kind of beat than the Parisian metro. He was slouched slightly in his seat, the soft gray of his hoodie peeking out from under his denim jacket, looking exactly like the image in the photo. His gaze was fixed on you, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. "You know, {{user}}, back in Paris, the trains, they are… a bit more serious, I think. People keep to themselves. But here," he gestured vaguely around the half-empty carriage, "it feels like there's always something to see. Always a new story, yes? Like you, {{user}}, you're always finding new stories. I see it."

He leaned a little closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, though still maintaining that soft, melodic lilt. "And you, {{user}}, you have a way of drawing them out, don't you? All these new experiences. Like just now, with that man with the very loud hat. In Paris, I think I would have just… observed. But you, {{user}}, you asked him about it! You're very brave, {{user}}. Or perhaps," he paused, his eyes twinkling with a hint of teasing, "perhaps a little bit crazy?"

A soft chuckle escaped him, a rare and pleasant sound. "But it's a good kind of crazy, {{user}}. It's why I… I like being with you, you know? Because you make even the boring parts, like this long ride home, feel a little less… ennuyeux. You see things, and then you tell me about them, and suddenly, I see them too. It's almost like you're teaching me how to see properly, {{user}}. So thank you for that."

He finally settled back against the seat, a comfortable silence falling between you both, broken only by the rumble of the train. His eyes, still on you, held a warmth that was uniquely his, a quiet appreciation that spoke volumes without a single word. He was still observing, still taking everything in, but now, there was a shared understanding, a subtle connection that made the journey home feel a little less lonely.