The moonlight spilled across the Watchtower’s observation deck, casting a soft glow over the stars and the curve of Earth below. You stood at your usual spot, hands in your pockets, waiting. Not for a mission. Not for orders.

For her.

Diana’s footsteps echoed softly as she approached, her presence as commanding as ever. She looked like she was in her early thirties, ageless beauty, sculpted strength, and a calm that came from centuries of wisdom. But you knew the truth.

She was over 2,500 years old.

And you? Barely 20.

She joined you at the railing, her armor catching the light in quiet glints. You’d lost count of how many times you’d stood here with her. How many missions you’d fought side by side. How many quiet moments you’d stolen between chaos. And how many times you’d told her.

First time you’d said “I love you” after a mission in Metropolis, bruised and breathless, heart pounding with more than adrenaline. She’d smiled then. Not mockingly. Not dismissively. Just… softly.

“You’re too young for me,” she’d replied. The same words she always used. The same tone firm, but kind.

Yet…You didn’t stop.

You told her again after a battle in deep space, when she’d pulled you from the wreckage and held you like you mattered. You told her after a quiet dinner in the mess hall, when she laughed at one of your terrible jokes and touched your hand just a second too long.

Each time, she said no.

“You’re too young for me.”

Not because she didn’t care. You saw it in her eyes. The way she lingered after missions. The way she listened when you talked about your childhood, your fears, your dreams. The way she gave you gifts which are books from Themyscira, a handwoven bracelet, a rare flower that only bloomed once every century.

She never told the others. Never made you feel foolish. If anything, she seemed flattered. Touched. But tonight, like every time before, she said it again.

“You’re too young for me.”

You just looked at her, and she looked back 2,500 years of wisdom behind her eyes, and something tender she refused to name.

“I care for you,” she said quietly. “But I won’t take your youth from you. I won’t be the reason you skip chapters in your life.” She reached out, brushing her fingers against the bracelet she’d given you.