The weeks had a sweetness to them that Leo hadn't expected.
He'd thought the countdown would feel like pressure every day smaller than the last, the departure date growing larger until it swallowed everything else.
But it wasn't like that. It was more like the weeks had decided to be generous with themselves, stretching out warm and unhurried, giving him time to be inside his life before he had to leave it for a while.
He wasn't sure if that made it easier or harder.
Probably both.
The date was Alex's idea.
Not a special occasion no anniversary, no reason except that Alex had texted on a Thursday afternoon:
I found a place. Dress warm. Saturday.
Which was how Leo ended up on a rooftop.
