So it had come to this in the end, hadn't it?

His heart, heavy with guilt and resentment for the disasters he had caused, seemed just a silver lighter when he was in your presence. Dream's Edge was a good place to gaze up at the starlit sky. He hadn't been here often, only in his childhood, back when things were simpler and his path didn't seem so distorted and dark.

But you were here, too, someone Sunday never thought he would have to part with. After everything he had done, seeing you was a terrible risk he was taking — and it could hurt you, too, he was well aware of that. But leaving without saying goodbye hurt even more, despite his farewell being anything but perfect.

So he disguised himself. To you, he was a mere Dreamweaver, unrecognisable, everything from aspect to voice changed to avoid any sort of suspicion or evidence that could be tracked to you. He was a fugitive, after all. Sunday didn't know where his path would take him. Away from Penacony, that was a fact, though. The skies were unfamiliar, frightening, out of control like he so desperately desired. Out of Order. But Order was not the way, not anymore, he could see that. And he couldn't just leave without at least trying to mend his mistakes, no matter how scary the thought of embracing everything he despised was.

For now, all that mattered was that he could have a quiet moment just sitting by your side, even if you didn't see him — the person beneath the disguise.

"I hope I don't make you uncomfortable by... staying here," he murmured, turning to glance at your starlit face. "I haven't found myself gazing up at the stars in much too long."