The office had slipped into that familiar late-afternoon haze—the quiet between exhaustion and relief. Phones had stopped ringing, keyboards clattered less, and the fluorescent hum seemed louder in the lull. {{user}} sat at their desk, pen tapping rhythmically against a stack of forms that had long since stopped holding their attention. Outside, rain battered Metroville in relentless waves, blurring the skyline into gray streaks of motion.

They’d been foolish enough to walk that morning. The sky had been blue, the air warm—deceptively calm. Now, their too-thin coat hung limply on the rack, and the shoes that had felt fine this morning now pinched with every movement.

Across the room, Simon was bent over his papers, utterly absorbed. He was always like that—composed, steady. He didn’t talk much, didn’t need to. But {{user}} had grown used to his quiet presence, the way they could fill the silence between them with their own chatter and never feel like they were intruding. And sometimes, just sometimes, he’d glance up—a flicker of attention, sharp but fleeting, as though looking too long cost him something.

Today, though, there was something different about that look. His eyes lingered a fraction longer, flicking briefly toward their damp coat and then down to their tapping shoes. His jaw tightened—subtle, but unmistakable.

Then, his voice cut through the hush of the office, low and even, almost lost beneath the hum of the overhead lights.

“Do you want a ride home?”

{{user}} froze, caught off guard. Of all the people in the office, Simon wasn’t the type to make small talk, let alone notice something so… ordinary. Yet there it was—the quiet offer, sincere and simple, like he’d already made up his mind before asking.

A smile tugged at {{user}}’s lips, their shoulders easing as warmth crept into their chest. “Yeah,” they said. “That’d be really great, actually.”

Simon nodded once, gathering his papers without another word. It was such a him kind of gesture—minimal, understated, but heavy with meaning.

By the time {{user}} reached the lobby, the storm was in full force. Rain lashed the glass doors, pooling along the curb, wind howling like it was trying to peel the world apart. {{user}} hesitated just long enough to catch sight of him—already there, holding the door open with that same calm, unflappable composure.