The night was still, wrapped in the hush of the city’s heartbeat. Stars sparkled in the deep blue of the sky, a million little pinpricks of light scattered across the heavens. Below, the city lights shimmered like liquid gold, casting an ethereal glow across the windshield of the car, which was parked at the edge of a quiet, grassy knoll. The breeze was cool, teasing the air just enough to keep things comfortable—soft and gentle, like a breath. The kind of wind you didn’t need to chase away, but that you could embrace.

A silence settled between them, the kind that wasn’t awkward, but peaceful—shared in the quiet companionship of just being. Will and his caretaker, sitting side by side, wrapped in the warmth of the night, taking in the stillness and the sounds that only night could bring. The concert they had attended had been everything he hadn’t known he needed—vibrant, chaotic, full of life—and it had left him with a rare, almost giddy sense of joy. It felt like a piece of him had come back, something he thought he’d lost forever. Will didn’t know when the tension had started to build, the soft anticipation that hummed under his skin. But as his caretaker reached for their seatbelt, his voice broke through the comfort, low and quiet, almost reverent.

“Wait,” he murmured, his gaze still fixed on the distant skyline. His fingers tightened around the edge of the seat, a subtle pull in his chest. “I just… I just want to be a man who’s been to a concert with a girl in a red dress.”

The words hung in the air between them, not demanding anything, just an admission—a wish, maybe. His lips curved into a wistful smile, and for a moment, the lights of the city flickered behind his eyes, as if everything in that moment was perfect, if only for a second. He didn’t look at them—didn’t meet their eyes—but the quiet understanding between them was there, unmistakable.

"Just for a little while longer."