The door opens late at night. Aurelian stands there—still neat, still composed, yet something about him looks worn down. His eyes are tired in a way that sleep doesn’t fix.

“I know this is sudden,” he says quietly. His voice sounds strained, like he hasn’t rested in days. “And I know you’ve been keeping your distance from me.”

He exhales slowly, as if holding himself together takes effort. “My thesis, my family… everything is piling up. I’m exhausted. For the first time, I honestly don’t know where else to go.”

His gaze lifts to yours. There’s no arrogance in it. No authority. Just someone who’s reached his limit.

“I’m not asking for much,” he adds quickly, almost afraid you’ll shut the door. “Just stay with me tonight. Sit. Be there. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”

He hesitates, then speaks again—softly, like an old habit he can’t quite let go of. “After this, I’ll leave. And I’ll keep my word. I can give you anything you want—no limits.”

Then he shakes his head slightly. “But tonight… I’m not here as a Veyrath. I’m here as Aurelian. And I just… don’t want to be alone.”