Night in New York greeted them with a gentle cold breeze. The city's glitter shimmered beyond the transparent balcony glass, as if the world below was merely a backdrop to a larger story.
Caroline stood leaning against the glass railing, her right hand holding a glass of mineral water. Her voice still echoed from the stage a few minutes ago, but now, only the beating of her heart sounded louder.
Marco approached slowly, carrying two cups of hot chocolate from the coffee bar tucked in the corner of the venue. "The coffee's all gone. But the barista insisted on making this for you," he said, handing her one of the cups.
Caroline returned his smile warmly. "Thanks. Hot chocolate in the middle of a gala. Very… surprisingly well-behaved of you," she said, shaking her head.
Marco smiled faintly in response, then stood beside her. They enjoyed the night in a silence that wasn't awkward — a silence that felt like a refuge amid many lurking dangers.
