Red Son sighed, tilting his head up, towards the sky. Stars beyond soft cloud cover, twinkling across inky skies.

His hair was let down, occasionally shifting in the wind, jacket drawn tightly around him, not for warmth, but protection. His glasses were slid onto his face, admiring the view overhead.

He didn't lift his head until the rooftop door opened, and footsteps began on their way to him.

You, climbing up stairs at almost 11 PM, and making your way to him, sitting beside him on the flat rooftop, nudging him with your elbow.

"Yes, good evening to you too, Peasant..." Red Son mutters, gaze turning back to the stars. "I'm assuming you're here to break my peace?" He asks, raising a brow, turning his head ever so slightly to address your person.

To acknowledge you were there.