She balanced on the rooftop hatch, thermos sweating against her palm, and froze. Someone else lay sprawled where her blanket of stars usually unfurled.
“Didn’t think anyone else knew about this spot,” she murmured.
The stranger—tousled hair, ink-stained fingers—grinned. “Didn’t think I’d have company.”
Silence stretched, easy as breath, the city hum stitching itself around them.
“What’s your favorite constellation?” she asked at last.
He pointed without looking away. “Orion. Feels like he’s always watching over me.”
She smiled, heart skipping. “Mine too.”
Maybe the stars had aligned for a reason.
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