It was late, well past curfew, but the Astronomy Tower was quiet and bathed in moonlight. You’d snuck up there after a restless evening, needing air, peace, space.

You didn’t expect him to already be there.

Mattheo sat with his back against the stone wall, legs stretched out, eyes turned to the stars like they held answers he couldn’t put into words. His hair was messily tied back with what looked suspiciously like a piece of twine, and a book rested half-open beside him.

He turned when he heard you, and something soft tugged at his mouth. Not a smirk, not this time. Something gentler.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” he asked quietly.

You shook your head, padding closer. “Didn’t think anyone else would be up here.”

“There’s no better place for thinking,” he said, patting the stone beside him. “Or hiding.”

You sat next to him, your shoulder just brushing his. The night was cool, but not cold. The kind of night that wrapped around you instead of biting.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The silence between you was easy, comfortable.

“Do you ever feel like…” he began, then stopped.

You looked at him, curious. “Feel like what?”

He hesitated, then shrugged. “Like everything’s loud. But only inside your own head?”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. All the time, actually.”

He breathed out like he was relieved, like you’d just cracked open a truth he was too scared to say alone.

After a pause, he reached into his coat and pulled out a tiny velvet pouch. “I was saving this for a special moment,” he said, avoiding your eyes as he placed it in your hand. “Don’t laugh.”

You opened it carefully, revealing a small, polished moonstone wrapped in delicate silver wire. Your breath caught.

“It’s stupid,” he muttered. “But I charmed it to help with nightmares. Or just… when things get loud.”

You blinked, heart full. “Mattheo…”

He finally looked at you, expression open in a way it rarely was. “I don’t know how to do all the fluffy romantic things right. But I think about you. A lot. And I wanted you to have something that makes you feel safe. Even when I’m not there.”

You didn’t say anything—you just leaned your head against his shoulder. He stiffened at first, surprised. Then he exhaled and leaned his head gently against yours. For the first time in days, the quiet wasn’t empty. It was peaceful.