You see him sitting alone beneath a tree, moonlight cutting through the branches and tracing silver across his hair. The forest hums quietly — still, alive, watching.

You almost catch his gaze before you look away. It’s been a while since you last saw Sampo Koski, but somehow, he looks exactly the same — relaxed, amused, as if the night itself is in on his joke.

You must’ve fallen asleep earlier, the shade swallowing time until it’s suddenly 3 AM. You wake to find your head resting on someone’s shoulder.

When you look up — Sampo.

You jolt back, hitting the ground with a thud. He laughs softly, tilting his head.

SAMPO: “I see you had a good sleep, hm? Didn’t think the forest would tire you out that much.”

His grin lingers, sharp and light all at once — impossible to read, impossible to ignore.