The rain had returned that night, heavier than before.

Drops streaked down the glass, turning the café windows into rippling mirrors. Inside, the clock struck 1:00 a.m. — a quiet hour that belonged only to sleepless souls.

Devansh sat with his notebook open, but tonight, he hadn’t written a single word.

Liora hadn’t said much either. She moved slower than usual, her eyes glinting red for the briefest seconds whenever lightning flashed outside.

“Rough night?” he asked softly.

She looked up, startled. “Why would you think that?”

“You’re folding the same napkin for the past five minutes,” he said with a faint smile.

She blinked, looked down at her hands — and laughed quietly. “You notice too much.”

“Only what stands out.”

Her laughter faded, replaced by something else. A pause. A hesitation.

Finally, she said, “Maybe you shouldn’t come here every night, Devansh.”

He frowned. “Why not?”

“Because…” She trailed off, searching for words. “There are things about me you wouldn’t understand.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Try me.”

Her eyes softened — almost pleading. “You shouldn’t trust people like me. Especially at night.”

Something about the way she said it — not as a warning, but as if she was begging him to listen — made him close his notebook gently.

He stood, walked up to the counter, and said quietly, “If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t be here.”

For a second, she looked like she wanted to step back — but she didn’t.

Her gaze flickered to his wrist where his pulse moved under the skin, and for a heartbeat, her pupils dilated. She quickly turned away.

“You shouldn’t,” she whispered. “Not when I’m… hungry.”

He froze. Not out of fear — out of realization.

The signs were there all along — her night shifts, the cold hands, the lack of reflection, the way her eyes glimmered in dim light.

But instead of stepping back, he said softly,

“Then I’ll just make sure you never starve alone.”

Her breath caught. “You don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“Maybe not,” he admitted. “But I understand loneliness. And you look like someone who’s had too much of it.”

Silence.

Rain filled the space between them.

Then she said, barely audible,

“If you stay close to me, you’ll get hurt.”

He smiled faintly. “Then I’ll write about it.”

And before she could reply, thunder rolled again — drowning out everything else.

Liora turned away, her hands trembling slightly as she reached for the coffee pot.

Devansh watched her in silence, a strange calm settling over him. He knew what she was now — or at least enough to understand why she feared herself.

But that didn’t change the truth.

He wasn’t there to escape the world anymore.

He was there for her.