We walked hand in hand.
That alone still felt strange in the best way possible.
The tower behind us loomed like a silent witness as we descended the long exterior walkways, the wind brushing against my coat and tugging lightly at Belle's hair. The evening sky stretched wide above us, painted in soft gradients of amber and blue, the sun already sinking low enough to stain the horizon gold.
Belle didn't rush. She never did. Her pace was unhurried, confident, like the world would wait if she asked it to. Her fingers were laced through mine, firm and warm, grounding in a way I hadn't realized I needed until now.
We passed through the last security threshold of the tower and stepped into the open parking lot.
And there it was.
Waiting.
