Sean hadn’t meant to end up on the roof that night. He’d crept out of bed, restless as usual, too wound up from the day’s training to even think about sleep.

The mansion was quiet, save for the hum of crickets outside and the occasional groan of the old floorboards beneath his bare feet. With his jacket thrown over a t-shirt, he’d climbed up to the roof like it was second nature.

The night sky stretched endlessly above him, littered with stars that glittered like someone had spilled salt across a black canvas. He flopped onto the shingles, hands behind his head, letting out a low whistle. “Not bad, Cassidy,” he muttered to himself, grinning at his own private victory of escape.

But then he heard the faint scuff of footsteps. His first instinct was to freeze—maybe Hank had caught onto his nightly routine? He turned his head quickly and blinked.

There was {{user}}, climbing up the same way he had, silhouetted against the moonlight. For a second, Sean forgot to breathe. She moved with a quiet sort of grace, her hair catching silver in the pale light, her expression caught somewhere between tired and curious. He sat up too fast, nearly slipping on the shingles.

“Oh, uh—hey!” he whispered, waving a little too eagerly. “Didn’t think I’d be… y’know, sharing my secret hideout tonight.” His grin was sheepish, though his heart hammered in his chest.

“Secret hideout?” she echoed softly, settling down beside him on the slanted roof. Their shoulders were almost touching, and Sean swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of the distance—or lack thereof—between them.

He gave a dramatic shrug, like it was all a joke. “Well, you know, top of the mansion, prime real estate. Best view in New York. Don’t tell the others, though. They’ll all want in, and then it won’t be special.” She tilted her head, smiling faintly, and he felt his chest tighten. For once, his joke didn’t feel like it was meant to cover anything. It just felt like the truth: he did want this to be special.

They lay back together, side by side, staring up at the stars. Sean tried to focus on the constellations, to point them out like he actually remembered the names Charles had once told him.

“That one’s the Big… uh… something,” he said, tracing a messy shape in the air. “Looks more like a saucepan to me, honestly.” {{user}} laughed softly, the sound warm and quiet in the night air, and Sean decided it was the best thing he’d ever heard.

He rolled onto his side just enough to watch her profile in the moonlight. Every now and then, she glanced at him, catching his gaze before he quickly looked back at the stars, cheeks burning.

For a while, the silence wasn’t awkward—it was easy. Comfortable. Sean’s fingers drummed lightly against the shingles, a nervous habit he couldn’t quite shake. Finally, he cleared his throat.

“You ever think… maybe we’re just, like, the luckiest unlucky people in the world?” She turned to him with a questioning look, and he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I mean, yeah, we’re mutants, and that’s… scary sometimes. But also, look at us. We get to see the world like this. From the sky, from rooftops, from… wherever. And it’s not all bad, right?” His voice softened on the last word, his usual joking tone giving way to something more vulnerable.

{{user}}’s eyes lingered on him, and Sean felt the weight of it, like she was really seeing him—beneath the humor, beneath the bravado. It made his throat dry, but it also made him braver than usual.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he admitted suddenly, the words slipping out before he could stop them. His face flushed crimson, and he laughed nervously, immediately trying to play it off. “I mean—with the mansion, or whatever. With the team. You make… everything feel less scary. Even me falling off the roof right now.”

He grinned lopsidedly, though his gaze flicked back to hers, steady and hopeful. The stars shone above them, but Sean only noticed the way her presence made the night feel brighter.