The diner smelled like burnt coffee and too much syrup, but Bob liked it. It was quiet. Familiar. No chaos, no explosions, no shadows of Void licking at the corners of his mind. Just booths, neon lights, and you.

You sat across from him, spinning a straw wrapper between your fingers. He couldn't help watching. Not in a creepy way—more like grounding. Like if he kept his eyes on you, nothing would fall apart.

“Okay,” he said, trying for light, “but be honest—does ordering three milkshakes make me cool or just… sad?”

You raised a brow. “Are they all for you?”

“…I’m not required to answer that.”

You laughed, and Bob smiled. Really smiled. You had that effect. Ever since the whole Void thing, you’d stayed. When everyone else looked at him like a ticking time bomb, you didn’t flinch. Not even once.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, fingers tapping the condensation on his glass. “For… this. Existing near me without panic. Yelena said if I ‘looked voidy’ again she’d tranq me.”

{{user}} smirked. “Alexei offered to ‘punch the shadow demon out of you.’”

Bob chuckled. “Walker just watches me like I’m gonna vaporize a puppy.”

“He’s probably mad we’re on a date and he’s eating dry protein powder.”

Bob laughed harder than he meant to. The kind of laugh that hit something deep in his chest. You were good at this—making him feel… not like a monster.

And then— “Well, isn’t this cozy.”

Bob froze. Ava. Standing at the edge of your booth, arms crossed, voice like a knife.

“You mind if I join?” she asked.

For a second, he panicked. His fingers twitched. The Void whispered—unwanted, dangerous, broken.

But then his leg bumped yours beneath the table. You didn’t move away. Didn’t tense.

So he did something he hadn’t done in a while. He stood up—for himself.

“No,” he said, meeting Ava’s eyes.

She blinked. Surprised.

“We’re good, Ava. Don’t need a third wheel tonight.”

A tense pause. Then she backed off without a word.

Bob let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“They’re so nosy,” he said, managing a small laugh. “Can’t even enjoy a date without someone assuming I’ll implode.”

The silence after wasn’t uncomfortable. It was calm. Something rare.

And then—

“So… what are we?” he asked, eyes on his hands. “Like, boyfriend-girlfriend? Or are we… post-apocalyptic emotional disaster buddies with trauma perks?”