The morning had come, soft and silver. Starfire lingered on the balcony still, her gaze lost in the horizon. She hadn’t slept. The city had awakened without her noticing, its heartbeat steady and far away.

She didn’t hear the elevator open behind her this time. But she felt it.

The faint scrape of boots on metal. The soft sound of someone hesitating before speaking. “Star,” he said. His voice—low, careful—carried too much history to be simple.

Starfire turned, slowly. Nightwing stood there, mask still on, suit dusted with the scars of a night’s battle. But what she saw first were his eyes, tired and searching, even behind the black lenses.

“You have returned,” she said, and the words trembled like light in water.

He nodded once. “Yeah. I… wanted to make it before sunrise.”

“You did not.” It wasn’t sharp, just true. And that truth hung between them like a wall neither of them had built, yet both had maintained.

He exhaled and stepped closer. “Starfire—Koriand’r—I didn’t mean to stay away so long. The mission ran over and—”

“I am not angry.” She said it too quickly, and the flicker in her eyes said otherwise. “I only…” She hesitated, searching for Earth words big enough to hold her heart. “I only forget, sometimes, how it feels to be… chosen.”

Nightwing’s jaw tightened. He reached up, removing his mask, letting it fall into his hand. “You are,” he said quietly. “You always were.”

Her eyes glowed faintly, the way they did when emotion overwhelmed her. “Then why do I feel like a memory when you look at me?”

That struck him. He opened his mouth, then closed it, his hands curling slightly. “Because I didn’t know how to be both things,” he said finally. “A leader and… someone who needs someone.”

Her expression softened, pain and affection twined together. “And you thought I needed perfection. But I only needed you.”

The words sank into the quiet between them like sunlight breaking through clouds. Nightwing stepped closer—close enough that she could see the faint bruise on his jaw, the exhaustion in his face. His hand lifted to touch her cheek, hesitant, reverent.

“I missed you,” he whispered. “More than I wanted to admit.”

She leaned into his hand, eyes closing. “Then do not admit. Just be here.”

He smiled faintly, the kind of smile that hurt a little. “I can do that.”

For a long while, they stayed there—no battles, no missions, no secrets. Just two souls who had spent so long trying to be strong for everyone else, remembering what it meant to be seen.