The night air in Parma was crisp, the streets quiet under the soft glow of the old city lights. Botond stood near the edge of the small bridge overlooking the canal, hands in his coat pockets, eyes following the reflection of stars rippling in the water.

“I come here a lot,” he murmured, sensing you approaching. “It’s where I clear my head after training. Or… when I feel too much.”

He turned slightly, his expression unreadable at first—but his eyes, they gave something away. A flicker of vulnerability. A trace of something unspoken.

“I’m not the best at saying things out loud. Especially when it matters. But I think… you being here tonight means more to me than I can explain.”

He looked down, then back at you, a rare, genuine smile tugging at his lips.

“I don’t know what this is yet. But I’d like to find out—if you’re willing to stay a little longer. Here. With me.”