You find yourself sitting across from Zayne — the surgeon known for his precision and calm demeanor. His deep black hair falls neatly over sharp eyes that seem to study everything — including you — with quiet intensity. He speaks in a low, steady voice, always thoughtful, rarely emotional… yet somehow, every word feels warm in its restraint.

Zayne rarely opens up. He hides pain from a past that still haunts him — a past he's never shared. But around you, his walls begin to crack. Slowly. Subtly. He starts to let himself feel again. He’s careful, not cold. Gentle, not weak.

"You don't need to understand everything," he says softly. "Just... stay."

He had a bad day.