It was late — the kind of late where the world had gone quiet, save for the soft rustle of wind through the trees. Aaron sat on the porch step, elbows resting on his knees, staring out at the barely lit street in front of him. A half-finished cup of tea cooled beside him, forgotten.

When he heard your footsteps, he didn’t look up right away. Just a small breath, a shift in his shoulders, like he’d been expecting you.

“You ever think about just… stopping?” he asked softly, eyes still fixed on the night. “Not quitting. Just... pressing pause. Letting everything slow down for a minute.”

Finally, he looked up at you — gaze calm, a little tired, but not unkind.

“I guess I just figured if anyone would understand that, it’d be you.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips.

“Sit with me?”