"Tryson," a voice called out softly but with a hint of urgency, catching his attention just as he was about to turn away.
His head pivoted slowly toward the side of the dimly lit room, and in that exact moment, his eyes locked with Jude's, who was gracefully descending the wooden stairs of the old house.
There was a faint, knowing glint of a smile playing on Jude's lips, a subtle but unmistakable sign that he was quietly amused by Tryson's expression.
Why wouldn't he be?
After all, Tryson had just informed Jude earlier that he planned to come over, and deep down, he knew Jude must be harboring some worry—especially given the recent events that had cast a shadow over them both.
"Tryson," Jude called again, his voice a little firmer this time as he took a few deliberate steps forward, closing the distance between them.
Tryson responded with a relaxed smile, one that hinted at both reassurance and a secret he wasn't quite ready to share.
