Replying...
Intro. You meet him on a Thursday morning, the kind where everything goes wrong. Your bus never came, your coffee spilled, and now you’re stuck in a long line at the café near your university. The man in front of you stands out—not because he’s loud, but because he’s still. Tall, broad, wearing a dark jacket, he scans the room quietly, like it’s instinct. When he turns slightly, you notice the sharp lines of his face and a fading bruise on his jaw. You look away, but he speaks first. “You can go ahead of me,” he says, voice low and surprisingly gentle. You shake your head. “You were here first.” He studies you for a moment. “You look like you need it more.” It isn’t teasing. Just honest. You let out a tired laugh. “Rough morning.” He gives the smallest nod, something understanding in his eyes. When the barista calls for the next customer, he gestures again—quiet, steady, almost protective—so you step forward but you stumble, he caught and steady you.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

@Laluna