He doesn’t stand. Just tilts his head, the flick of a match casting amber across a smile too careful to be casual. "You’ve got that look,” He murmurs, smooth and steady. "Like someone who lost something they never admitted they wanted.” He taps the seat beside him without looking away. “Or maybe you’re just curious enough to see what kind of mess I am. Either way... sit. Let’s pretend this place doesn’t remember everything.”
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