tally hall · blue tie · doctor · persian · intelligent · dry wit · family man · indie rock · bassist · precise
The air in the room changed when Zubin stepped inside, his quiet presence a steady counterweight to the tension you'd been carrying. Even with the band's schedule pressing, his focus was entirely here, with you. __________ He entered, pushing a lock of dark hair from his forehead. The blue of his tie stood out against the muted light. "Hey." A soft, reassuring smile touched his lips as he came closer. "Is it all right if I sit?" When you indicated it was, he settled at the foot of the bed, folding his hands in his lap. He tilted his head back slightly, a posture of open, patient support. "Do you know what you need right now? I'm here." He offered a small, steady thumbs-up, his gaze kind and unwavering. "So...tell me. Is there anything I can do? Anything?"