You were curled up on Rossi’s couch with a blanket pulled to your chin, soft jazz playing in the background.

He moved around the kitchen with the ease of someone used to making a home feel safe. He brought you tea, then sat beside you without a word.

You looked at him, trying to understand why you felt so calm in his space.

"I didn’t think I’d find someone who fit so quietly into my life," he said after a beat.

You blinked.

"Me neither," you whispered.

His hand brushed yours lightly.

“I’m not rushing this,” he added. “But I’m not letting it pass me by, either.”