The air on the Tower was cool and crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine from the forest below. Stars freckled the black velvet sky, shimmering like secrets waiting to be told. Mattheo leaned against the stone railing, his silhouette etched sharply against the night. His messy curls caught the faint glow of moonlight, wild and unrestrained like the chaos he carried inside.

You climbed the final step, spotting him before he even noticed you. Typical Mattheo—always lost in his own world. The quiet wrapped around you both, but you had no intention of letting it linger.

“What are you plotting now?” you asked, crossing your arms as you stepped forward.

Mattheo flinched, his dark eyes narrowing as they found yours. “What on earth are you doing up here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you shot back. “But seriously? You want to go through with that? Bit stupid, don’t you think?”

His jaw tensed, lips curving into a bitter half-smile. “I’m the son of a terrible person, remember? So who would even care, right?”

You felt your chest tighten at the weight behind his words. You hated when he talked like this.

“Maybe you should...,” you said softly. Then, your voice dipped, a question trembling on your lips before you could stop it. “But... tell me something. Tell me why does my heart burn this way... when I see your face?”

The confession hung between you, fragile yet fierce. You moved closer, drawn by something magnetic and undeniable. His breath caught, and for a moment, he seemed lost—vulnerable in a way you rarely saw.

“{{user}}...” he began, but his voice faltered.

You stood so close now that you could see the faint freckles dusting his nose, the flicker of uncertainty in his stormy gaze.