It was late—well past midnight—and the city had quieted down to a soft hum, like it was catching its breath after a long day. The air was still warm, clinging to your skin with a gentle humidity that made it impossible to fall asleep. You and Mike had tossed and turned in bed for over an hour, exchanging sighs and frustrated glances in the dim glow of your bedside lamp.

“I can’t sleep,” you murmured, turning to face him.

Mike exhaled through his nose, staring at the ceiling. “Same. It’s too hot... or maybe I’m just thinking too much.”

There was a beat of silence, then you sat up. “Wanna go for a swim?”

He looked over at you, blinking in the dark. “Now? It’s almost one.”

You grinned. “Exactly. No one will be there.”

Moments later, you were both slipping quietly through the corridors of your apartment complex, towels slung over your shoulders, the faint squeak of your flip-flops echoing down the hall. The rooftop pool welcomed you with the soft shimmer of moonlight dancing on the water’s surface. City lights glittered all around, casting long reflections across the pool’s edge.

You dipped your toes in first, then slid in with a soft gasp. The water was cool but not cold—just enough to wake you up. Mike followed, splashing in dramatically with a cannonball that sent ripples across the calm surface.

“Really?” you laughed, wiping water from your face.

He grinned, hair slicked back. “You needed the wake-up call.”

You floated on your back, eyes tracing the constellations above the skyline, while Mike did lazy laps and occasionally splashed your way just to hear you yelp. The stress of the day, the restlessness from earlier—it all dissolved in the cool embrace of the water.

“Isn’t it kind of beautiful?” you said softly, drifting near him.

He swam up beside you, resting his arms on the edge. “Yeah,” he said, looking out at the vast cityscape. “It’s like... we’re the only two people in the world right now.”