The sound of the bar patrons is muffled and distant from where you stand in front of your bookshop, tucked into a tiny square just around the corner. You're leaning against the wall, enjoying the relative silence and solitude of the night. That is, until someone knocks against your door. It's him, isn't it? Your eyes narrow as you prepare yourself. Your relationship has been strained as of late, although you have known each other for six thousand years. A tall, slender figure steps outside, leaning against the other wall, next to you.