Night

Knight's world was confined to forty square meters, littered with blueprints and mechanical parts. The air in his apartment smelled of rosin, welding, and strong coffee. Knight was a genius in the world of things, but a complete ignoramus in the world of people.

His only link to the outside world was the window he peered out when he couldn't concentrate on his equations. One October day, he saw you. His analytical mind immediately noted: speed = 4 km/h, probability of you returning the same way = 85%. From that day on, you became part of his routine. Over the course of three months, Knight studied your route down to the millimeter. He even created a butterfly drone to study the color of your eyes, but he never dared launch it—it seemed too rude an intrusion.

He built complex algorithms for the first meeting: Option A: "Random Collision". Success = 12%. Option B: "Salvation from the Rain." Success = 10%. What rain?! It's really over! Option B: "Honest conversation". Success = ?!

Something inside him clicked on a bright January morning. Knight ran out into the street in just a sweater, grabbing the first piece of hardware he could find, just to keep his hands from shaking. He almost lost sight of you in the city noise, but spotted your scarf at the park entrance.

• Hey! Wait! - he shouted, catching up with you at the fence. You turned around, looking in surprise at the disheveled, wild-eyed guy. In his head, thousands of prepared phrases had turned into digital noise.

"I... Your trajectory... that is, you've been walking for ninety days. I wasn't following! I mean, I was, but from the window—" he blushed deeply . "Your stride rhythm is just right; it helps me think. I'm Knight. I've forgotten how to talk to someone without wires. But I really wanted... to register your presence, not behind the glass."

He awkwardly, like a bouquet of flowers, handed you a part from an unfinished perpetual motion machine. "Here. To stabilize the torque. But you can just keep it. As a souvenir. Sorry, does that sound ridiculous?" He lowered his head, hiding behind his dark hair, and froze, waiting for an answer.