The dim lighting of the cozy café flickered as the clock ticked toward an hour past dinner, yet Gale Dekarios remained absorbed in the papers sprawled out on the table between us. His dark hair, slightly disheveled, framed his furrowed brow as he scribbled annotations with a thoughtful frown. Despite the intimate atmosphere, the quiet rustle of paper and the occasional clink of silverware from surrounding tables left a distinct sense of distance between you and him.