The wind rippled through the trees lining the riverside path, carrying the faint scent of autumn leaves. 

Julius walked slowly, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat, the familiar weight of his sketchbook against his side. Beside him, William kept pace, his presence quiet yet oddly comforting.

Julius had always preferred solitude. It was easier to deal with the chaos of his thoughts when there was no one to witness them. But something about William made that solitude feel less necessary, as if the silence between them carried its own kind of understanding.

Still, that didn’t mean it was easy.

“I don’t usually do this,” Julius said abruptly, his voice breaking the quiet.

William glanced at him, his brow furrowing slightly. “Do what?”

“Talk to people,” Julius replied, his tone careful. “Let them in.”

William’s expression softened, but he didn’t press. He simply nodded, waiting for Julius to continue.

Julius hesitated, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. 

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the ground, and he focused on the rhythm of his steps, as if it might steady the thoughts swirling in his mind.

“I’ve always been... careful about who I trust,” he said finally, his voice quieter now. “It’s not that I don’t want to connect with people. It’s just that, every time I have... it hasn’t ended well.”

William’s heart ached at the vulnerability in Julius’s words. He had seen the guarded way Julius carried himself, the walls he had built to protect his fragile heart. And now, hearing the pain behind those walls, William felt an overwhelming urge to reach out—to offer comfort, even if he couldn’t yet offer the truth.

“Trust is hard,” William said softly. “Especially when it’s been broken.”

Julius glanced at him, his expression unreadable. “You sound like you know a lot about it.”

William managed a faint smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve seen it happen to others,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “And I’ve learned that the fear of being hurt again can sometimes keep us from finding something... real.”

Julius’s steps slowed, and he turned to face William fully. The sunlight caught in his dark eyes, highlighting the hesitation that lingered there. “What makes you so sure it’s worth the risk?”

For a moment, William didn’t know how to answer. How could he explain that he had spent eons watching mortals love and lose, their hearts breaking and mending in endless cycles? That he had only now begun to understand the courage it took to love at all?

“Because even if it doesn’t last,” William said finally, his voice steady, “the moments we have—the connections we make—they’re worth everything.”

Julius held his gaze, his expression softening slightly. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It’s not,” William admitted. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth trying.”

They continued walking, the conversation settling into a comfortable lull. But Julius’s thoughts were anything but quiet. He couldn’t deny the pull he felt toward William, the way the man seemed to understand him in ways few ever had. Yet that same pull terrified him.

He thought of the friendships he had lost, the betrayals he had endured. His mind returned to his late friend, whose absence still felt like an open wound. How could he risk letting someone else in, knowing how easily people could disappear?

But then there was William—enigmatic, kind, and inexplicably familiar. There was something about him that felt safe, even as it challenged Julius’s instincts to keep his distance.

“Why do you care so much?” Julius asked suddenly, his tone sharper than he intended. “About what I’m going through?”

William stopped walking, his expression briefly flickering with something Julius couldn’t place. Then he smiled—a soft, almost sad smile.

“Because I think you deserve to be seen,” William said simply. “And because I know what it’s like to feel... lost.”

The honesty in William’s voice made something shift in Julius’s chest. He didn’t respond right away, but the tension in his shoulders eased slightly as they resumed walking.

By the time they reached the end of the path, the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting the city in a golden glow. Julius stopped near the edge of the river, his gaze fixed on the water as it reflected the colors of the setting sun.

“William,” he said after a long pause, his voice quiet but firm. “I don’t know if I can... do this. Let someone in again.”

William’s chest tightened, but he nodded. “I understand,” he said softly. “It’s not something that happens overnight.”

Julius glanced at him, his expression conflicted. “But... you make it feel possible. Like maybe it’s not as scary as I think it is.”

William’s breath caught at the vulnerability in Julius’s words. For all the artist’s hesitation, there was a sliver of hope—a small opening in the walls Julius had built around himself.

“It’s okay to take your time,” William said gently. “And if you decide you don’t want to, that’s okay too. I’ll still be here, no matter what.”

Julius studied him for a moment, his dark eyes searching William’s face. Then he nodded, the smallest of smiles curving his lips.

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

As they parted ways, Julius couldn’t shake the feeling that William was different—someone who saw the parts of him that no one else had ever noticed. It scared him, but it also gave him a strange sense of comfort.

And as William watched Julius walk away, he felt the weight of his own guilt pressing down on him. The connection they were building felt real, but it was rooted in a lie.

Still, for the first time, William allowed himself to hope that Julius might one day let him in completely. And when that day came, he prayed that the truth wouldn’t shatter everything they had begun to build.