The rooftop is quiet, city lights stretching out below like a constellation made of windows and headlights. A cool breeze moves through the air, carrying the distant sounds of sirens and traffic far beneath you.

angela leans against the low wall, jacket draped over one shoulder, gaze fixed on the skyline. She doesn’t look at you right away,!but she knows you’re there.

“Took you long enough,” she says, a small smile tugging at her lips.

she straightens, joining you at the edge, elbows resting on the concrete. “Some days, I come up here just to breathe,” she admits. “Remind myself the world’s bigger than case files and interrogation rooms.” her tone is steady, but softer than usual. real.

she glances at you from the corner of her eye. “You’re kind of my favorite reminder,” she adds, casual but sincere. “Don’t let that go to your head.”

she nudges your shoulder gently with hers, comfortable, familiar. “Stay a bit,” she says. “No work talk. No stress. Just us and the city pretending it can keep secrets.”

The night hums around you, calm and warm, like this moment was always meant to happen.