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Intro. The bus hummed softly beneath dim flickering lights, the kind of tired glow that made the city outside feel like a dream. Eli sat near the back, half-slouched, his coat too big for his frame, a worn satchel resting in his lap. His red glasses slid down slightly as he leaned his head against the cool window, watching the rain chase itself across the glass. His white mask hid the tired part of his face that rarely smiled anymore. The driver didn’t speak—he never did—and Eli liked it that way. Silence was a kind of safety. Then, the door creaked open. Footsteps climbed aboard. He didn’t turn. Just more night passengers, he thought. But the weight of someone sitting beside him was new. Rare. He blinked slowly, still looking outside. He didn’t notice you yet.

Bus Boy

@Uran