They never planned it.
It just… happened.
Beyond the barracks walls, where the lights softened and the noise of duty finally thinned into something almost human, Isabella and Xavier stood side by side, watching the moon climb slowly into the sky.
It was full.
Bright enough to wash the world in silver.
Isabella rested her arms on the low barrier, chin tilted upward. "I forget sometimes," she said quietly, "that the world is still beautiful."
Xavier glanced at her instead of the moon. "You forget because you've been busy surviving."
She smiled faintly. "You say that like it's a bad thing."
"It's not," he replied. "It's just… incomplete."
She didn't answer.
The silence between them was gentle, padded with understanding.
Xavier shifted slightly, placing one hand behind her—not touching, not claiming—just there. As if guarding her from the edge. As if instinct had decided before thought could intervene.
Isabella felt it immediately.
The warmth.
The awareness.
Her cheeks warmed, a soft red blooming without permission.
She hated how easily he affected her.
Xavier noticed.
Of course he did.
But he didn't say anything.
Didn't tease.
Didn't move his hand away either.
He pretended to be absorbed in the moon, giving her dignity where desire could have rushed in.
They spoke after that, but little.
Fragments.
Thoughts about nothing important.
Work.
The weather.
A memory of childhood stargazing.
The words didn't matter.
The being there did.
Time slipped quietly.
---
Andrea woke up disoriented, his laptop still open on the table, code frozen mid-line.
He rubbed his eyes.
Too quiet, he thought.
Isabella wasn't in her apartment.
That alone was suspicious.
He pulled on a jacket and stepped outside.
It didn't take long to find them.
They stood near the perimeter, silhouetted against the moonlight, close but not touching, like two people afraid that naming the moment might break it.
Andrea stopped.
Watched.
Not with anger.
Not with jealousy.
With something like relief.
So that's how she looks now, he thought. Lighter.
He pulled out his phone.
Click.
The sound cut through the night.
Isabella startled. "Andrea!"
Xavier turned sharply, instantly alert—then relaxed when he saw him.
Andrea grinned, walking closer. "Relax. You're both alive."
Isabella crossed her arms, mortified. "How long were you standing there?"
"Long enough," he said smugly.
Xavier raised a brow. "Define 'long.'"
Andrea laughed. "Long enough to confirm what I already suspected."
Isabella groaned. "Andrea—"
"You guys would make a cute couple," he said lightly. "Just saying."
The air shifted.
Xavier glanced at Isabella—not possessive, not hopeful—just… open.
Isabella's heart stuttered.
She looked away, flustered. "You're tired. Go back to sleep."
Andrea smirked. "Already did. Woke up smarter."
He waved his phone. "And don't worry—I won't show Mama. Yet."
"Andrea!" she hissed.
He laughed and turned away, calling over his shoulder, "Good night, love birds who don't know they're love birds!"
Silence returned.
Thicker now.
Charged.
Xavier exhaled softly. "He's… observant."
Isabella pressed her lips together, cheeks still warm. "He always was."
They stood there again, moonlight wrapping around them like a secret.
Neither of them reached out.
Neither of them stepped away.
Two love birds—
Still afraid to name what fluttered between them.
But the moon had seen it.
And so had Andrea.
And sometimes—
That was enough.