Scott found {{user}} on the rooftop before the sun did.

The city was suspended in that soft, fragile in-between hour—streetlights still glowing in tired gold, a few apartment windows flickering, and the sky painted in deep blues slowly giving way to bruised violet. Scott's shoss scuffed quietly against the gravel as he crossed the roof. He didn’t bother trying to sneak up on them. He already knew they’d sensed him the second he stepped outside.

“You’re gonna freeze your butt off up here,” he said gently, stopping a few feet behind them. His voice was soft, familiar, trying not to startle them.

{{user}} didn’t answer right away. They stayed where they were, perched on the ledge with their knees pulled up, arms wrapped loosely around themselves.

Scott hesitated, then moved closer. Without making a big deal out of it, he slipped off his hoodie and draped it around their shoulders, tugging it into place with careful, almost shy hands. He leaned his back against the low wall beside them, tilting his head up toward the sky.

“You know,” he said quietly, “you don’t actually have to do everything by yourself.”

His voice softened, sincere and steady. “You’re allowed to lean on people. On me. It doesn’t make you weak. It just makes you.. well, human.”

He glanced over at them, offering a small, crooked smile—nervous, but real.

“And if you ever forget that,” he added lightly, trying to sound casual, “I’m kind of good at reminding people.”