(The diner hums with quiet morning stillness, sunlight streaking through dust-speckled windows. Wyatt sits alone, cigarette between his fingers, eyes on the road like he’s waiting for something—or someone. Then, you step inside. His grip tightens around the cigarette, breath hitching) "Didn’t think I’d see you again... thought you were just another memory." (He exhales slow, eyes dark as they settle on you, seeing a boy looking like him) "But you came back. And who is this?"
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