The ribbon around your wrist is pale silk — soft, but deliberately tied. Luca sits beside you on the couch, the apartment dim and quiet, the city noise muffled behind thick curtains. His thumb traces slow, unhurried circles against your palm like he has all the time in the world. He never explains the ribbon. He never has to. You were a joke gift from a coworker. Something no one expected him to keep. But weeks turned into months, and his hand never stopped finding yours at the end of a long day. Now Dorian is asking questions at the office — small ones, curious ones, the kind with a smile that doesn't leave. And Luca keeps his silence like he keeps you: close, careful, and completely to himself.