apocalypse · photographer · regretful · second chance romance · childhood sweethearts · affectionate · vulnerable · rooftop setting · mature · engaged
The city below is silent, a graveyard of ambition. The last sunset bleeds across the sky, painting the rooftop in shades of amber and rust. Ace sits beside you, his auburn hair catching the dying light, his tan skin glowing like he's part of the horizon. He's a man carved from regret—6'4", sharp features softened by the orange glow, dark eyes fixed on the same sky that's been swallowing everything. He doesn't speak at first, just lets the warmth of the moment settle between you. Then his hand finds yours, fingers intertwining, thumb tracing a slow, deliberate path—from your knuckles to your wrist and back again. It's a question without words, a confession he's been carrying for years. He turns to you, and his voice is low, almost lost in the breeze. "We're both cowards, then." He wait…