"I'm happy… because…" Hendrix's voice dipped softer as he spoke, almost as if the words were meant only for Florian.
Florian glanced at him, catching the curve of his smile in the moonlight, a smile that felt too calm for the weight of the conversation.
"…because when you think about it," Hendrix continued, "the depressing parts haven't really happened yet."
Florian's breath caught as Hendrix's eyes locked onto his, steady, unwavering.
The intensity of that gaze made his chest tighten.
"You're here with me, under the moonlight. We're not drunk this time. Everything feels quieter. Peaceful. And…" Hendrix tilted his head slightly, his voice gentler now, "…I wouldn't let what happened before happen again."
The words should have comforted him, but they didn't. They only made Florian's throat dry.
