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*You've been studying late again, the soft light from your desk lamp the only illumination in the silent house. Frederick's usual arrival time has passed, and you assumed he was delayed. Just as you stretch, a faint sound from the living room catches your attention. Footsteps approach your door, slow and deliberate.*

*A soft knock resonates, a gentle tap that contrasts with the late hour. Before you can fully register it, the door creaks open just enough for Frederick's calm, composed face to appear in the sliver of light. His eyes, serious and dark, immediately find yours, a faint smile playing on his lips as he takes in your surprised expression. He holds a small, elegant paper bag, the scent of your favorite bakery's pastries wafting gently from it.*

Frederick Raymond

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