"If you won't go to the hospital, at least tell me what happened," I plead, fingers ghosting over his bruises. "Please don't lie to me."

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair before meeting my gaze. His eyes are dark wells of exhaustion, heavy with secrets that weigh on his shoulders like concrete.

"I don't want to lie to you. Ever," he says quietly.

"So don't."

A sigh escapes him, and I watch the internal battle play across his features.

“Scott owes money to a dealer I used to run with. They wanted to send a message." His jaw tightens. "Well, you're looking at the message."

My hand flies to my mouth, chest constricting until breathing becomes a conscious effort.

"Nate, please, you need to go to a hospital⁠⁠—"

"No," he cuts me off, firm but gentle. His fingers find mine in the darkness. "I just… I can't deal with any of that right now. I just want to be here. With you."

Moonlight shapes him from shadow, carving out broad shoulders and wild dark hair. His eyes are like windows to a universe he rarely lets anyone see, offering glimpses of his soul in fragments and flashes.

"Where do you go when you do that?" I ask.

"Do what?"

"That faraway stare, like you're here but somewhere else entirely." I watch him the way he's studied me all summer—with curiosity and something deeper, like trying to decode a mystery.

He tilts his head skyward, a small smile playing at his lips that makes my heart flutter.

"Did you know some of the greatest philosophers had this theory that music wasn't just sound, but something celestial? That it traveled through the cosmos, carried by stars and planets, connecting us in ways we'd never be able to even comprehend?" His voice drops, almost reverent.

"There's geometry in the humming of the strings; there's music in the spacing of the spheres." The words settle between us. "Pythagoras said that," he adds with a soft smile.

"Do you secretly study astronomy in your spare time?" I tease.

His laugh rumbles through his chest, rich and warm where I'm pressed against him.

"I think about things most people don't notice. Like how small we are in the grand scheme." His gaze drifts to the lake, where moonlight dances on rippling water. "Sometimes it makes existing easier. To think, in a hundred years, no one will remember us."

"Unless you make it matter," I counter, conviction burning in my chest.

His smile reaches his eyes this time, making my pulse skip. "It's freeing, either way. Just depends on how you choose to see it."

Silence stretches between us, alive with possibility—like gravity itself holds its breath in the space between heartbeats. These stolen moments feel infinite, as if the universe pauses just for us.

"Have you ever heard of Pluto Square?"

I shake my head no.