The TV light flickered across the room, soft and restless, painting everything in shifting gold and shadow. The sound of dramatic voices and swelling music filled the quiet—but none of it reached him the way you did.

Tamsy had only meant to pass by.

But then he saw you.

Not the version everyone knew—the guarded one, the steady one—but something quieter. Softer. Your reactions slipped through without restraint, small and unfiltered, like you’d forgotten the world outside the screen even existed.

He stopped in the doorway.

Watched.

And then, without thinking too much about it, he moved.

Each step was careful, silent, until he stood just behind the couch. Close enough to see the slight shifts in your posture, the way your focus never wavered. Close enough to notice the things no one else ever did.

His gaze lingered.

Studying.

Trying to understand.

“…So that’s how it is.” He murmured under his breath.

Not judgment. Not quite surprise either.

Just… recognition.

And still, he didn’t leave.