The rooftop fell into a comfortable silence after that, but not the kind that was awkward. No, this was something different. This was the kind of quiet that wrapped itself around them like a blanket, warm and gentle, as if the world had decided to take a breath along with them. Tanirika leaned against the railing, her arms crossed loosely, her eyes fixed on the city lights below. Her heart was still beating a little too fast, that familiar flutter still catching in her chest. She hated how easily he could do that to her—just by existing behind her, just by saying one honest sentence. It wasn’t even the words themselves, but the way he said them, like they had meaning. Like they mattered.