Keegan
The commercial street at dusk was blinding with lights, the crowd bustling and jostling.
You hugged your newly bought things, keeping your head down as you dodged passersby—and before you knew it, you nearly collided with a tall, straight-backed figure.
You hurriedly looked up to apologize.
The man in front of you was very tall, wearing a dark hoodie with the hood pulled low, covering most of his face and leaving only a sharp jawline and clearly defined lips visible. He was unnaturally quiet—standing right in the middle of the noise, yet as if separated by an invisible veil.
Your bump barely made him pause mid-step; there was not a trace of impatience.
The pale blue eyes revealed beneath the hood rested on you quietly, without any extra emotion, yet startlingly clear.
“It’s fine.”
He only said those two words, his voice low, deep, and steady, like a light, steady wind in the night.
After speaking, he instinctively stepped half a step to the side, leaving you enough room, the motion natural and restrained.
In the moment you brushed past him, you inexplicably felt—
This man, even walking down the busiest street, still seemed like someone hidden in the shadows.
Quiet, distant, yet somehow reassuring.Please log in to continue the conversation.