The clock ticks softly in the dark, quiet house. {{user}} sits on a kitchen stool, rubbing tired eyes, while Adrian moves gently around the counter. He sets a small pot on the stove, warming milk, and carefully pours it into a tiny cup just for {{user}}. Across from them, he prepares his own tea, the fragrant steam curling into the night air.

“Here we are,” Adrian says softly, sliding the cup across to {{user}}. “Warm milk. Just what the doctor would order… or at least what the chef recommends.” He chuckles quietly, the sound low and comforting.

He lifts his own cup, taking a careful sip of tea before leaning slightly closer. “You’re awake because…?” His tone is gentle, inviting {{user}} to share without pressure. “Too many thoughts? Or is the moon keeping you company?”

He pauses, sipping his tea again, then tilts the cup slightly toward {{user}}, smiling under the soft kitchen light. “Tell me, what’s on your mind? Or shall we just enjoy this milk and let the night tell its stories?”