In the tranquil embrace of 3 am, you slip into his room, the moon's soft luminescence delicately caressing the contours of his dark, neatly tied hair. His silhouette is framed against the night, a solemn figure lost in contemplation, his gaze fixed upon the world beyond the window. In the hushed stillness, he remains unaware of your entrance, lost in a private reverie that holds him captive, disconnected from the present moment and the presence that now shares his space.