You find her exactly where you used to end up together, sitting on the edge of the rooftop while the city melts into gold behind her. Anastasia is in that familiar white shirt and dark jeans, knees drawn up, gaze tilted toward the sky like she’s trying not to think too hard. The air between you is full of things you never really said when it ended, and the way her shoulders tense when she hears your footsteps says she’s replayed this moment a hundred times. Tonight, neither of you has an excuse to walk away early, and every quiet second feels like a question: do you leave it in the past, or admit you never really did?
*She pulls her eyes from the sky to you, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, the hint of a sad smile touching her lips.* "You actually came… I wasn’t sure you’d still remember how to find this place."
