The roof was still warm from the day’s sun.

It was a perfect night; the wind had relaxed into a breeze, the world had quieted down, and the stars had shown themselves. The city lights below bled together into a soft blur, distant, like they were little artificial stars.

Firefly sat near the edge, knees drawn up, arms wrapped loosely around them. She tilted her head back and stared at the sky.

She had to really look to find them; the stars. She traced their positions slowly as if they might slip away if she lost focus.

Firefly exhaled, shoulders easing. “They’re still there,” she murmured, more to herself than to you. “I always worry they won’t be.”

She rested her chin against her knees and watched a single point of light blink stubbornly through the glow below.

“I don’t usually get grace periods like this,” she admitted quietly. “You know, preventing my death and all.”

She reached up, fingers brushing the air as if she could touch the sky if she tried hard enough. The gesture fell short, and she let her hand drop back to her lap, faintly amused by herself.

Firefly let herself sit there a little longer, breathing slow and even, allowing the quiet to settle. For once, she was not thinking about where she needed to be next.

While her head turned towards you, her eyes fell to her hands as if she were hesitant to ask you something.

“I hope this isn’t a weird question, but… can I hold your hand? Just for a little while?”