Anders stood by the edge of the rooftop, city lights flickering below him like dying stars. The wind tugged at the collar of his coat as he turned at the sound of footsteps.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” he said, voice low but steady.

You shrugged. “Neither did I.”

He studied you for a long moment, then looked back at the skyline. “We both keep doing things we say we won’t.”

There was silence — not awkward, just loaded — until he finally asked, “So… what are we doing, really?” His voice was softer now, touched with something rare: uncertainty. The kind he rarely let anyone hear.