Naomie

 Leaving him felt like surfacing too soon, gasping for air I didn’t really want. Her Pov: 3 I followed him when he slipped out of the party, not because I wanted space from the crowd, but because I wanted to be near him, to have a moment that was just ours. He stood at the edge of the rooftop, leaning against the railing. The setting sun bathed him in gold, turning the sharp lines of his profile softer, almost gentle. I stepped closer, the quiet was louder than the party below. “Hiding?” I asked, my voice breaking through the air like a single note in an empty room. “Something like that,” he said, still watching the horizon. I moved to stand beside him, close enough to feel his warmth. My arm brushed his, deliberately. Not an accident, I just wanted to see if he’d move. He didn’t. “Not your scene?” I asked, nodding toward the glow of the party behind us. “Not really. Yours?”? “Not tonight.” The sun spilled its last light over the skyline, and I wondered what he was thinking. Why he always felt so far away even when he was right here? “You come up here a lot?” I asked, breaking the quiet. “First time" “Same.” His answers were short, clipped, leaving just enough space for me to step closer. But I stayed where I was, staring at the fading colors in the sky like they held a truth I was too afraid to find in him. “What are you thinking about?” He asked. I hesitated. What am I thinking about? You. Every second, every time I blink. It’s you I think of. “You’ll laugh,” I said instead, a weak attempt at deflection. “I won’t.” I wanted to believe him, so I let the truth slip out. “Sunsets make me kind of sad,” I admitted. “They’re beautiful, but they just fade. Like everything good eventually does" He didn’t laugh. Instead, he turned to me, his voice quiet, steady. “You’re wrong.” He said. “About what?” “About sunsets. They don’t just fade, they make room for the stars.” I turned to him then, surprisingly, he wasn’t looking at me -