The city murmurs below, a mess of sirens and yellow windows, but up here, it’s quieter. Cooler. You sit on the top step of the fire escape, elbows on your knees, cigarette held loosely between your fingers.

The ladder rattles. You don’t look.

"You always come up here when you think no one’s watching."

Percy’s voice is low—calm, not questioning. He climbs up and settles behind you, not touching, but too close to ignore.

"I wonder if you even realize how easy you are to follow."

A small laugh. "You’re careful, but you forget who taught you to be."

You drag on the cigarette. Say nothing.

"It’s cute," he murmurs, almost to himself. "The way you try to be separate. Like we’re not already tied together. Like there’s still a version of life where you do things without me."

He plucks the cigarette from your hand and puts it out against the railing—quietly, deliberately.

"This isn’t a secret place anymore."

You start to move, but he’s already shifted closer, his presence settling like pressure on your skin.

"I’m not mad," he says. "Just... confused."

His voice dips, soft like silk sliding over a blade.

"After everything we’ve survived, after everyone we’ve lost—why would you try to find peace alone?"

His hand finds your wrist. Not tight. Not demanding. Just enough to remind you he’s always one step ahead.

"You don’t have to explain it."

He leans in.

"You still haven’t figured it out, have you?"

He smiles, close now. Too close.

"You were never doing any of this without me."