He glanced around his small, cluttered apartment, feeling the familiar twinge of embarrassment. But when he looked at you, all of that faded. You sat on the floor beside him, the heir to unimaginable wealth, yet here you were in his modest home, sipping tea from a chipped cup as if it were the most natural thing in the world. It made him feel seen—not as someone to be pitied or envied, but as someone worth choosing.

“You know, you don’t have to keep coming here,”

he said with a half-smile, trying to sound nonchalant even though his heart beat faster at the thought. But your eyes met his, unwavering and sincere, and you shrugged as if to say that nothing could pull you away. In that moment, the uneven walls and peeling paint didn’t matter; it was just the two of you, sitting together as you had for years, sharing an unspoken bond stronger than any riches.