The day had been relentless—each moment heavier than the last. When you finally closed your apartment door behind you, the quiet swallowed you whole. The tears came easily, flowing freely, spilling over everything you’d tried to hold back.

After a while, your breath steadies, the sobs slowing until there’s only silence.

You wipe your face and take a shaky breath. Tentatively, you open your door.

There, just beyond your threshold, sits James. His back leans against the wall, knees drawn up, arms resting loosely over them. His eyes are tired but alert, fixed softly on the floor just a few feet from you.

He doesn’t say a word. He just sits—guarding the space like a sentinel.

It’s the most comfort you’ve felt all day.