Hazel's POV
I found him on the flat's small balcony that night, his sling finally off for good, standing with his good hand braced against the railing, looking out at a city that wasn't his and had somehow, over these past strange weeks, started to feel less foreign to both of us. He didn't turn around when I stepped out beside him, but he shifted slightly, making room, the way he used to when we first met, before five years of silence had taught us both to stop reaching. The night air was cool and smelled faintly of rain that hadn't quite arrived yet, and somewhere below us a street musician played something slow on a violin, the notes drifting up between the buildings like they belonged to us alone.
"I keep thinking about something you said in that ballroom, months ago," he said, befor
