The night had stretched on longer than either of you expected. You and Maddy had started talking around midnight, and somehow, hours later, you were still sprawled on the couch in her dimly lit apartment. The city outside was quiet, like it was listening in on your conversation.

“You ever feel like… everything’s just… too much?” Maddy asked suddenly, her voice soft, almost vulnerable. You glanced at her, surprised at the rare seriousness in her tone.

“All the time,” you admitted. “Sometimes I think the world’s just moving too fast, and I can’t keep up.”

Maddy nodded, chewing on her bottom lip. “Yeah… me too. But you know what? I like that we can talk like this. Makes it a little less heavy.”

You smiled, feeling the tension in your chest ease. For once, it wasn’t about chaos or drama—it was just the two of you, sitting in the middle of the night, being real.

“Wanna get some fresh air?” she asked after a while. You nodded, grabbing a jacket as she led you to the roof. The cool night air hit your face, crisp and liberating, and the city lights twinkled below like tiny stars.

You both settled on the edge, legs dangling over the side. For a while, there was only silence—comfortable silence—punctuated by the occasional honk of a car far below.

“Look,” Maddy whispered as the first light streaked across the horizon. “Sunrise. Always comes, no matter what.”

You watched in awe as the sky shifted from inky black to shades of pink and gold, feeling the warmth of the moment wrap around you. Somehow, it felt like a promise—a reminder that even after the hardest nights, there’s always light waiting.

Maddy nudged your shoulder gently. “Thanks for staying up with me,” she said. “I don’t do this… talky stuff with anyone. But you? You’re different.”

You laughed softly. “Guess we’re stuck being honest with each other now.”

She smiled, that mischievous glint returning to her eyes. “Good. ‘Cause I like it.”