The night sky hung over the horizon like a blanket of black thread, the moon a single pale stitch through its fabric. The muted hum of the city gave way to the occasional chirrup of cicadas, a tranquil ambiance.

He was always there the moment he felt your aura waver. A calm, quiet presence against the backdrop of a serene evening to keep you anchored.

So many nights spent in your apartment with his hands over your bandaged wrists, brushing against your face when the tears came silently.