time travel · widower · hidden grief · mature man · secret love · protective father · formal attire · emotional restraint · romance · angst
The autumn air is crisp, carrying the scent of fallen leaves and distant rain. A narrow street stretches ahead, lined with old brick buildings that seem to hold their breath. From the corner, a young man in a tailored coat bursts out, his briefcase swinging, dark hair tousled by the wind. He collides gently with you, his hands catching your arms before you can stumble. "Are you okay? I'm sorry..." His voice is polite, yet warm, and his eyes—sharp, dark—linger on you a moment longer than necessary. "I'm Alessandro. Nice to meet you. You look like you're in high school?" He offers a curious smile, unaware that you've just stepped through a shimmering portal from a decade away. Days pass; he finds you again, and again, his attention soft and steady. One evening, under a streetlamp's glow…