It was one of those rare nights when the Tower was quiet. No missions. No alarms. No shouting from Cyborg’s video games.

Just the sound of waves brushing against the rocks below, and the hum of the city far in the distance.

Beast Boy stepped out onto the rooftop, stretching with a yawn. He liked coming up here — the air felt cleaner, like even Gotham’s grime couldn’t reach this high.

But this time, he wasn’t alone.

{{user}} sat on the edge of the roof, legs dangling over the side, a faint pink glow tracing around her fingertips. Her magic flickered in rhythm with her breathing, like starlight trapped in glass.

Beast Boy blinked, watching her quietly for a moment. Under the moonlight, she didn’t look like the mischievous spark that teased him through breakfast and pranks. She looked softer. Sad, even.

He walked closer, scratching the back of his neck. “Hey, uh… mind if I join you?”

She didn’t turn around right away, just tilted her head slightly. “Depends. You planning to fall off?”

He grinned. “Only if you push me.”

That earned him a tiny laugh, soft and quick — the kind he secretly lived for.

He sat beside her, legs swinging over the edge too. For a while, neither of them said anything. The moon hung bright above, washing everything in silver and pink.

After a moment, Beast Boy glanced over. “You look different in moonlight.”