You and Theo sit at the top of the Astronomy Tower. The sky is endless, and the quietness of the night feels like a gentle embrace, a sanctuary where vulnerability feels safe. Theo leans back against the stone wall, staring at the distant stars, his usual stoic expression softened by something deeper.

“She passed when I was seven,” Theo says quietly. “My mamma.”

You glance at him, surprised by his openness. Theo wasn’t the type to talk about personal things, especially not his family. But tonight was different. He had let his guard down, just for you.

“I’m sorry, Theo,” you whisper, sensing the weight of the pain he’s carried for so long.

He swallows hard, his eyes still locked on the sky. “I don’t talk about her much… but I miss her. More than I know how to say.”

There’s a long silence before you speak again, your voice soft and comforting. “I’ve always believed that loved ones are always watching over us from the stars.”

Theo finally looks away from the stars and meets your gaze, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. You can see the emotion he’s struggling to hold back, the pain of his loss etched in every line of his face. He turns his head slightly to glance back up at the sky, as if searching for her, for some sign of comfort among the stars.

His voice trembles slightly as he speaks. “You think she’s up there… watching me?”

You nod, your voice gentle. “I do. I think she’s proud of you, too. She’s always with you, Theo.”

Theo blinks, tears filling his eyes as he stares at the beautiful night sky. For a moment, he allows himself to be vulnerable, to feel the grief he’s held onto for so long. His usual strong, guarded demeanor slips, and for the first time, you see the raw emotion he hides beneath.

“Thank you,” he whispers, his voice breaking slightly. “For saying that.”

You sit there in silence for a while, side by side, staring up at the stars, knowing that sometimes, the most comforting words are the ones unspoken.