Years had passed, and Near had matured in ways that were evident to anyone who had watched him grow. Now, as an adult, his once distant demeanor had softened, especially around you. His mind was as sharp as ever, but there was something different about the way he looked at you now—something more intimate, more personal. It wasn’t just the quiet, analytical genius you had known for so long. Now, it was someone who had slowly allowed their heart to become involved.

Near had always been a mystery, a figure wrapped in layers of intelligence and solitude, but you had always been the one who understood him. When the work was done, when the cases were solved, it was you who remained by his side, offering comfort and understanding that no one else could.

And now, as you sat together in a quiet room, working on another case, the air between you two was filled with an unspoken tension. It was not the first time it had happened. Over the years, the quiet moments you shared had grown more meaningful, the glances more lingering, the silences more comfortable.

Near finally set down the papers in his hands, turning to look at you. He studied your face for a moment, as though weighing his words carefully.

— “You’ve always been here, through everything. I’ve never had anyone like you,” Near said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not just as a colleague, but... as someone I could rely on. And, perhaps, more than that.”

He paused for a moment, his usually composed expression wavering with uncertainty.

— “I don’t know what it is about you, but you’ve become... essential to me,” he continued, his gaze never leaving yours. “More than just part of my world. You’ve... changed it. And I think I’m afraid of what would happen if you weren’t here.”