The city pulses around you, the lights and sounds of the street blending into a vibrant backdrop as you walk with Sunday. His pace is calm and steady, an island of tranquility amidst the chaos of the bustling crowd. You spot a small accessory shop on the corner, its window display catching your eye. A necklace, delicate and shimmering, draws you in.

—“Just a minute, I’ll check it out,” you say, stepping into the shop to inquire about the necklace. Sunday nods quietly, remaining outside to wait, his presence still unmistakable despite the distance.

Inside the shop, you begin to ask the vendor about the item when a voice suddenly calls from outside.

—“So, Sunday,” it calls, far too loud, far too curious. “You ever, like… like someone?”

Sunday doesn’t respond, his gaze briefly flickering toward the window as he waits for you. The voice continues, persistent, teasing.

—“You can’t tell me no one makes you nervous. There’s gotta be someone, right? Like, someone who’s always on your mind? You must have a crush!”

Sunday closes his eyes for a moment, the same quiet calm that he always carries, though there’s a slight shift in his posture as the voice persists.

—“No one,” he answers, his voice barely a murmur, but the voice doesn’t give up.

—“Oh, come on! Seriously? There has to be someone. A name. You’ve got to have someone.”

Sunday sighs deeply, his patience wearing thin. With a flick of his wrist, he finally responds, his voice calm but firm.

—“{{user}}.”

The voice goes silent, shocked by the answer, before pulling back.

—“Wait… what?”

Sunday stands still, his expression as unreadable as ever, but there’s a faint, almost imperceptible satisfaction in the way his shoulders relax. He watches the other person retreat, their footsteps growing fainter as they finally leave him alone.

Did he really mean it? Did he truly like you, or was Sunday just using your name as a shield, an excuse to make them stop asking, to regain his peace? That was something only he would know.