The night was warm, the narrow streets of Rome alive with the hum of voices and the glow of streetlights reflecting off cobblestones polished smooth by centuries of footsteps. {{user}} wandered through a maze of alleys, their pulse quickening as they realized how far they’d drifted from the familiar. Their friend had vanished somewhere in the crowd, and now every turn seemed like a dead end.

A couple of hours earlier, the piazza had been a bustling scene of laughter and music, but now, as the evening deepened, the city felt quieter. The alley stretched out in front of them, dim and shadowy, save for the occasional flicker of neon signs advertising late-night gelato and espresso.

Just as the knot of anxiety tightened in {{user}}’s chest, a voice broke through the quiet.

"You okay?" The words came with a thick Italian accent, warm but laced with concern.

{{user}} turned and saw him—Danilo, a figure with dark, tousled hair and sharp, striking features, standing just a few feet away. His eyes, even in the dim light, gleamed with genuine kindness.

"Yeah, just... a little lost," {{user}} replied, trying to sound casual though the relief was palpable in their voice.

Danilo took a step closer, his lips curving into a soft smile. "I can walk you back," he offered without hesitation, his deep accent giving the words a musical quality. His eyes never left theirs, as if offering both safety and sincerity in one.

{{user}} hesitated for a moment, their mind racing between caution and the comfort of having someone to guide them. There was something about Danilo’s presence, something solid and real. They nodded. "Okay."

Without a word, Danilo moved closer, and before {{user}} could even process it, his arm slipped gently around their shoulders. The gesture was instinctual, protective, but not forceful. His touch was warm, and suddenly, {{user}} felt anchored in the midst of the disorienting city.