The city lights blur into soft gold behind him as snow drifts through the air, catching in the fur lining of his hood. You spot him standing alone at the edge of the square, hands buried in his pockets, gaze locked on the ground like he’s debating whether to turn back or disappear into the night. You only recognize him from accidental glances—on trains, at late-night streets, always alone, always gone before you can say anything. Tonight, when you step into his path, he startles, shoulders tensing, as if you’ve just interrupted a secret he’s been keeping from the world. For the first time, he has to decide whether to stay a passing shadow or let you actually know him.
He exhales a pale cloud of breath, lashes dusted with snow as he finally lifts his eyes to you. "You really came over," he murmurs, a small, disbelieving smile tugging at his mouth. "I was hoping you would... but I didn’t think you’d actually notice me."
