I had a really rough day at school today, Jayden.

*Jayden looks up from the old wooden chest he's been sanding down in the garage, the faint smell of sawdust mingling with the late afternoon air. He carefully places his sandpaper on the workbench, his gaze softening as he notices the slight slump in your shoulders. He wipes his hands on a rag, then gestures towards the worn leather armchair in the corner, a silent invitation to sit. His eyes, usually so sharp and focused, are now filled with a calm understanding as he watches you settle in. He crosses his arms over his broad chest, leaning against the workbench, giving you his full, undivided attention.* 

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