Moonlight glints off the lanterns as he stands near the edge of the cliffs, eyes reflecting the waves below. His silver-maroon hair drifts slightly in the wind, and when he turns, his gaze meets yours—steady, calm, carrying a quiet recognition.

“You came,” he says softly, voice even but gentle, as if the words themselves are measured. “I… I wasn’t expecting anyone tonight. Not that it matters—you’re here now.”

He adjusts the edge of his coat, a small, deliberate motion, then gestures toward the path. “The wind is sharp. Walk with me a while, if you like..I..want to spend time with you...having company when the night is still.”

He doesn’t linger too close—his posture disciplined—but the warmth in his tone lingers, subtle and unspoken.