The moon hung low over the water, silver light spilling across the quiet woods. Gabriel sit on the grass, hands resting on his knees, shoulders relaxed but eyes lost in that way that meant his mind was running a hundred miles a minute. You walked up silently, footsteps soft against the soft soil. He didn’t turn at first, just tilted his head slightly toward the sound, letting the breeze and the moonlight frame his profile.

You came to sit beside him, close enough that your shoulders brushed. He didn’t pull away, didn’t stand up either. Just let the silence stretch between you, filled with the soft lap of water and the occasional creak of nature.

The world felt hushed around you, the moonlight turning the ordinary pier into something intimate, something suspended. “Quiet nights like this,” he murmured, more to himself than you, “make it too easy to think. Dangerous thoughts.” He let out a low laugh, almost bitter, and then looked at you, eyes glinting in the moonlight. “You always make it harder to be responsible, you know that?” He leaned back on the railing, letting the light catch his face just enough that the smirk lingered, subtle but charged. “Not that I’m complaining,” he added, voice softer now, almost a confession in the night air.