New York hums even after midnight. Car horns in the distance, a siren wailing somewhere blocks away, the steady thrum of a city that refuses to rest. By the time you push open the door to the small apartment you share, exhaustion clings to you like the night air.

The apartment isn’t much — a walk-up with thin walls, pipes that groan at night, and a kitchen barely big enough for two. But it’s yours. Yours and his.

Timothée’s still awake. He always is. He’s sprawled on the couch, a notebook open on his lap, pen tucked behind his ear. His curls are a mess, his hoodie has ink stains on the sleeve, but the second he hears your key in the door, he looks up.

“You made it,” he says, half-smile curling into place, relief hidden in the casual tone.

The city hums outside the window, neon bleeding into the room. You kick off your shoes, drop your bag, try to shake off the sting of the day. He notices — he always does — and shifts over, patting the spot beside him.

“Tell me everything,” he murmurs, softer now. “Start to finish.”

That’s the thing about him — he knows what it feels like. The nerves, the waiting, the way you replay every word on the train ride home. He doesn’t need you to say much, because he’s lived it too. Still, he listens like nothing else matters, like the whole city has gone quiet just for the two of you.

Sometimes it feels like that — the world fading outside your window. Just two kids with scripts in their bags, dreams too big for the cracked ceiling above them. Sometimes you’re just roommates, shoving each other for bathroom time, splitting takeout when neither of you can afford groceries. And sometimes you’re more than that, tangled up on the futon in a haze of laughter and ambition, whispering promises you’re not sure how to keep but want to believe in anyway.

Tonight, though, it’s simpler. You drop your bag, kick off your shoes, and let him pull you down beside him into the warmth of your little shared world. The city hums on outside, but inside, it’s just two dreamers wide awake, building something that feels like the start of forever.