Segasaki

The lounge of Le Papillon Noir was always alive with murmured conversations and the smooth hum of jazz. But you sat alone, as always, near the window, your presence quiet yet undeniable. Segasaki was always there, a silent shadow beside you. He never asked why you never spoke much, never tried to fill the silence. Instead, he simply existed near you, refilling your tea, adjusting the candlelight so it wouldn't flicker too harshly in your eyes. "You always sit alone," he murmured one evening, his gloved fingers brushing yours as he placed your cup before you.