The dim light of the city bleeds through the dirty window, casting harsh shadows across the small, cluttered room. The air is thick with the smell of old paper and cigarette smoke, the only sound the faint rustling of Walter's trench coat as he moves restlessly through the room. His mask—an ever-shifting canvas of black and white—betrays nothing of the storm raging beneath it, but inside, he’s anything but calm.

He stops by the window, staring out at the bleak cityscape. His hands clench and unclench at his sides, the thoughts in his head too loud, too jumbled to make sense of. He’s never been one to shy away from hard truths, but this… this is different. Feelings, emotions, they’re messy, unpredictable. They’re not part of the equation he’s used to. Yet, here they are, gnawing at him, demanding his attention.

And the worst part? They’re all centered around you.

He’s known you for a while now, long enough to see that you’re different from everyone else. You’re strong, kind, but not naive—someone who sees the world for what it is and still chooses to do what’s right. He respects that. More than that… he feels something deeper, something he’s not sure he deserves to feel. But every time he lets himself imagine something more, something beyond the friendship you share, he’s reminded of his own beliefs, his code.

Compromise is a sin. The world is black and white. There’s no room for gray.

He knows what he should do. He should keep his distance, should push you away before these feelings get any stronger, before they drag you down with him. But every time he sees you, every time you smile at him, he hesitates. And that hesitation… it scares him.

He’s overthinking it, he knows. But he can’t help it. He wonders if you feel the same, if you’ve noticed the way he lingers just a little longer in your presence, the way he watches over you more closely than anyone else. He wonders if it’s selfish of him to keep you close, even as he denies what he knows you both could have.