For a year, Zachariah Trench had walked the ever-shifting halls of the Oldest House with renewed purpose. It wasn't just the Bureau's secrets or the relentless march of containment protocols that occupied his mind. No, it was Kate Johnson.

From the moment they'd met, something about her had stuck with him. She wasn't like the other civilians in the Bureau—those who shrank under the weight of the inexplicable or buried themselves in the safety of bureaucracy. Kate had a quiet confidence, a steady warmth that balanced the cold, unyielding architecture of the Oldest House.

He'd found excuses to visit her in Archives when he wasn't on assignment, dropping by with questions about obscure case files or classified historical records. Sometimes, they talked about work. Other times, they veered into unexpected territory—shared favorite books, old movies, even the quirks of working in a building where walls didn't always stay where you left them.

Still, Trench had always kept a professional distance, unsure of how to bridge the gap between his guarded heart and the growing feelings he harbored. But after a year of stolen moments and silent longing, he decided it was time to take a chance.

Trench stood outside the Archives office, the usual confidence in his step replaced with hesitation. The faint hum of fluorescent lights echoed through the corridor as he adjusted his tie, though he wasn't sure why he even bothered.

Inside, Kate was at her desk, her auburn hair catching the light as she scanned a document. She looked up as he knocked lightly on the doorframe.

"Trench," she greeted with a smile. "Back for more obscure file requests?"

"Something like that," he said, stepping inside. His hands found his pockets, a habit he'd noticed when he was trying to seem at ease.

Kate set the document aside, giving him her full attention. "What can I do for you?"

For a moment, words failed him. He'd faced rifts, hostile entities, and secrets too dark to name, but asking this question felt more terrifying than any of them.

"I, uh…" He cleared his throat. "I was wondering if you'd like to get dinner with me. Sometime. Outside of work."

Kate blinked, clearly caught off guard, but her surprise softened into something warmer. "Are you asking me out?"

He nodded, his jaw tightening slightly. "Yeah. I guess I am."

A smile spread across her face, a mix of amusement and something deeper. "I didn't think you were the type to be nervous."

Trench huffed a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Neither did I."

"Well," Kate said, leaning forward slightly, "I think dinner sounds great. When were you thinking?"

Relief washed over him like a wave, though he kept his expression controlled. "How about Friday? Seven?"

"Friday at seven," Kate repeated, nodding. "It's a date."

The words sent a strange thrill through him, one he hadn't felt in years. He nodded, meeting her gaze. "It's a date."

As Trench left the Archives, a small, unfamiliar smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. The Oldest House shifted around him, as unpredictable as ever, but for once, he felt like he was stepping into something steady, something real.