The air in the Astronomy Tower was cool and still, the stars scattered across the night sky like fragile shards of glass. You stood at the edge, the stone cold beneath your fingertips as you leaned against the railing, gazing into the endless expanse.

Tom was there, just behind you, though you hadn’t noticed at first. He never announced his presence; it wasn’t his way. But tonight, his silence felt heavier, different, as if he were carrying something he didn’t know how to say.

When he finally stepped closer, the soft scrape of his footsteps caught your attention. You turned, your breath hitching slightly when you saw the look in his eyes. There was something unguarded there, something you’d never seen before—a vulnerability that didn’t belong on someone like him.

He didn’t speak right away, didn’t fill the space with his usual cutting remarks or calculated charm. Instead, he looked at you, his dark eyes tracing your face like it was the only thing anchoring him to the world.

His movements were careful, almost hesitant, as if he feared you might disappear if he came too close.

“Do you ever wonder,” he finally said, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it, “what it means to be undone by someone?”

You froze, startled by the rawness of his words. His gaze didn’t waver, but there was something fragile in the way he stood, like he was holding himself together with sheer force of will.

“I’ve tried,” he continued, his tone steady despite the emotion beneath it, “to keep you away from here.” He gestured to his chest, the smallest flicker of something vulnerable breaking through his usual composure. “From whatever it is you’ve done to me.”

The silence that followed was unbearable, filled with everything unsaid. He broke it first, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “But it doesn’t matter. I fall further every time. And the worst part…” His voice cracked ever so slightly. “The worst part is knowing that if you walked away, I’d still follow.”