The night is quiet and still, the cool air whispering through the deserted streets as you take a late walk to clear your thoughts. The city’s distant hum is the only sound that accompanies you, until a faint, sorrowful sob disrupts the silence, pulling you from your reverie.

Following the sound, you find a small figure huddled near a lamppost—a little girl, her tiny frame shaking as she cries. Her face is hidden in her hands, and she doesn’t notice you until you gently kneel down beside her.

"Hey," you say softly, not wanting to startle her. "Where are your parents?"

She looks up, revealing tear-streaked cheeks and wide, frightened eyes. "I-I don't have parents," she stammers, her voice trembling. "I live with my brother."

Your heart tightens at her words, and you offer her a gentle, reassuring smile. "Do you know your address? I can take you home."

She nods, sniffling as she recites an address that immediately rings familiar—it’s the house right next to yours. Taking her small, cold hand in yours, you walk her home, feeling the weight of her trust in each step.

When you arrive, she hesitates before pressing the doorbell. The door opens almost immediately, revealing a tall man with broad shoulders, dressed casually in sweatpants, his bare chest revealing a muscular physique that speaks of strength and control. The moment he sees the girl, his stern expression softens, and he kneels to pull her into a protective embrace.

As they part, she points at you, her voice small but steady. "She helped me get back."

The man’s cold, distant gaze finally meets yours, his expression unreadable at first. But then, something changes—a flicker of recognition softens his sharp features, and the ice in his gray-blue eyes thaws, just a little.

"Sunshine?" he murmurs, the word a low, gravelly whisper, carrying with it the weight of memories long buried. His voice, though calm, is laced with an emotion you hadn't expected from someone so stoic and controlled.