The night air was crisp, the kind that made {{user}} pull the jacket a little tighter around herself. She looked up at the sky, the stars scattered across it like tiny pinpricks of light, the vastness of it all both comforting and overwhelming.

Alan sat beside her on the old wooden dock, his long legs stretched out as he leaned back on his palms. His green jacket was draped over {{user}}’s shoulders, the lingering warmth from Alan’s body keeping the chill away. He had insisted, of course—something about how {{user}} “looked cold” and how he “wouldn’t want his favorite person turning into an icicle.”

{{user}} rolled her eyes at the memory of Alan dramatically shivering as he handed her the jacket, but she couldn’t stop the small smile from creeping onto her lips.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Alan mused, tilting his head toward {{user}}. His heterochromatic eyes gleamed in the moonlight—one black, one white—like something out of a dream. “Not that I mind, but usually you’re the one talking my ear off.”

{{user}} nudged him playfully with her shoulder. “Just enjoying the moment.”

Alan hummed, a care free, thoughtful sound. He turned his gaze back to the sky, his messy brown hair ruffling slightly in the breeze. “Y’know, Orion’s my favorite constellation,” he said after a moment, his voice softer than usual. “Not just ‘cause of the name. My mom used to point it out to me when I was a kid. Said it meant I was destined for something great.”

{{user}} glanced at Alan, catching the flicker of emotion in his expression. He rarely talked about his mother.

“She was right,”{{user}} said simply.

Alan scoffed, shaking his head. “Dunno about that. But I like to think she’s up there, watching. Probably pissed at me for not wearing a proper coat.”

{{user}} laughed, the sound light and unguarded. “She’d be more pissed that you gave yours away instead of keeping yourself warm.”

“Eh,” he shrugged. “You’re more important anyway, doe eyes.”