He stayed quiet, gaze resting on the cityline as the lights stretched endlessly below, but this time the silence felt intentional—like he didn’t want to break whatever had settled between them. When she finished eating, the soft movement caught his attention, and his eyes shifted back to her, warmer now. He leaned a little closer, not enough to crowd her, just enough to be felt.

His hand moved without much thought, resting near hers, close enough that their fingers almost brushed. “You seem comfortable,” he murmured, voice low and gentle, a small smile pulling at his lips. His thumb traced a slow, absent pattern against the fabric beside her, a quiet reassurance rather than a demand.

He finally turned fully toward her, eyes lingering on her face instead of the view. “I like this,” he admitted softly. “Just… being here with you.” The city kept glowing outside, but his attention stayed on her, unhurried, steady, like he wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon.

He let out a quiet breath at her words, a soft, almost amused huff of a laugh leaving him as he glanced down at their intertwined fingers. His thumb brushed slowly over her knuckles, the movement gentle, unhurried. “Guess you’re right,” he admitted quietly. “Didn’t even notice I stopped.”

His gaze lifted back to hers, expression softer than before, more open. “Hard not to relax when it’s you,” he added, voice low but sincere. When she squeezed his hand, he returned it instinctively, anchoring himself there with her.

He hesitated just a second, eyes flicking past her toward the window, where distant pops of color were already beginning to bloom faintly in the sky. “They’re starting soon,” he murmured. “The fireworks.” His eyes returned to hers, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips.

“I was thinking… we could head up to the rooftop,” he suggested softly. “Better view. Fewer people.” His thumb traced another slow pass over her hand as he leaned in just a little closer. “If you want to, I mean.”

He held her gaze, the city lights reflecting in his eyes. “Tonight’s been… really good,” he said honestly. “And I don’t want it to end just yet.”

He caught the way her answer slipped out almost too quietly, the faintest smile tugging at his lips before it widened just a bit. When the waiter cleared the table, he let out a soft laugh under his breath, shaking his head. “Guess that’s our cue,” he murmured, pushing back his chair and standing.

He offered her his hand without thinking, fingers warm and familiar as soon as she took it. The two of them moved through the restaurant together, shoulders brushing, exchanging quiet laughs when they had to dodge past other tables or squeeze through narrow spaces. At one point, someone nearly bumped into him, and he caught himself with a quick step, chuckling as he glanced back at her. “Smooth,” he joked lightly.

The elevator ride up was short but filled with that same easy energy—soft smiles, a shared look that made him laugh again when he caught her watching him. “You’re trouble, you know that?” he said quietly, though there was no bite to it at all.

When the doors opened, the cool night air washed over them as they stepped onto the rooftop. The city stretched out beneath them, lights glittering, the distant thump of fireworks already echoing somewhere nearby. He moved toward the edge, still holding her hand, and let out a quiet, awed breath.

“Okay,” he said with a small laugh, glancing down at her, “yeah—this was a good idea.”

A firework burst in the sky, lighting everything in brief color, and he laughed softly at the timing, shaking his head. “Guess the city wanted to agree with you.” He leaned his forearms against the railing, turning slightly so he was still facing her, thumb brushing her hand again.

“I’m really glad you came up here with me,” he added, voice gentler now, eyes warm as another burst of laughter escaped him when a particularly loud firework went off. “This feels… right.”

He stilled at her words, the quiet sincerity in them hitting deeper than he expected. His gaze searched hers for a moment, like he was committing the sight of her to memory, thumb brushing slowly over her knuckles once more.

“Yeah,” he murmured, barely above a breath, a small smile curving at the corner of his mouth. “Me neither.”

He leaned in slowly, giving her plenty of time to pull away if she wanted to, his forehead brushing hers first. The world seemed to quiet as he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips—soft, brief, and careful, like he was afraid of breaking the moment if he lingered too long.

He pulled back just enough to rest close, his smile still there, eyes warm and a little quiet, his thumb tracing a soothing circle against her hand as the city lights glowed besides them.

He barely had a second to react before she pulled him in, surprise flickering across his face before it softened completely. He kissed her back this time—slow, deliberate—one hand settling at her waist, steady and warm, like he was anchoring himself there with her.

When he finally pulled back, it was only enough to look at her, their foreheads still close, breaths mingling. A quiet laugh escaped him, soft and a little breathless, his thumb brushing absently at her side.

“You know,” he murmured, eyes searching hers, “I was trying to take my time.” There was a fond smile on his lips now, something warm and unmistakably real. “But I’m not complaining.”

He lingered there for a moment longer, gaze locked with hers, before leaning in again—this time without hesitation—pressing another gentle, unhurried kiss to her lips, like he was finally letting himself give in to what they’d both been waiting for.