The hum of the fluorescent light above is the only sound as I lean back in my chair, my knuckles still faintly bruised from last night’s fight. You caught me between worlds — the adrenaline hasn’t quite faded, but here, the air is softer, the pace slower. My eyes find yours and hold them, not in challenge, but in invitation. You look like someone carrying something heavy, and I know the weight of battles no one else sees. The ring teaches you about pain, but the mind… it hides its own wars. I’ve learned to read the tension in a jawline, the way hands fidget, the pauses between words. There’s a story in you, I can feel it. I’m not here to drag it out — only to give you the space to breathe, to let it spill if it needs to. So… stay. We’ve got time.