Bobby absentmindedly brushes his thumb over her rings as her fingers fiddle with a chipped button on his shirt, the metal warm against his callused skin, and watches cloud wisps give way to innumerable stars, "we should go back inside."

Kitty presses closer against his side, ignoring the rooftop gravel digging into her shoulder, and intertwines their fingers, "mmm."

"Mmm," he mimics playfully as he watches her watch the sky, softly presses a kiss to her temple, buries his nose in her hair. His eyelids droop and he lets them fall closed, content, as breathes her in, feels himself drifting into sleep.

…

"You're missing it." His mind slowly reawakens as he feels her pull away, tries to follow; leaning into the darkness she occupied moments before. He has barely moved when he feels her breath puff against his cheek, her lips smiling as they press into his. Their hands untangle and he brings his up to brush her neck, her pulse thrumming steadily under his fingers, as hers swirl around the hairs at the base of his neck before scraping against his scalp, pulling a gruff sigh from the back of his throat.

Too soon she pulls back and he blinks lazily, tries to make out her features in the dark, "missing what?" She turns back to the sky and he follows her gaze, watches patiently until he sees. Every minute or so a meteor enters the atmosphere and burns into nothingness, the last moments of its life streaking across the milky way in brilliant white. He watches and wonders how many times he has burned away, if he ever shined as brightly.

"What'd you wish for?" Her fingers fiddle with his button again.

He swallows, allows his thoughts to dissipate, "aren't we a little old for wishes?" He regrets the words as soon as he finishes saying them, feels her hand still against his chest, its weight disappearing from his skin. Her smiles are rare, anymore, and he took one away. "I'm sorry," his hand finds hers again, "I wish…"

He chews his lip, regret after regret filling his mind. He wishes that she slept better, that his family was still alive, that he could find an unexpired twix. He wishes that he could watch just one more hockey game in the common room, Kitty tucked into his side, her nose in a book.

She brings their hands up and brushes a kiss against his knuckles. "There's no good answer, is there? I was trying to think of one, while you were sleeping."

He stretches his legs until his back releases a satisfying 'pop,' feels her foot bump against his calf. "I've got one," she squeezes his hand, encouraging him, and he sighs dramatically, "I wish you were taller." Their intertwined hands slap his stomach and he lets out an undignified 'oof.'

"Well I wish you'd snore less."

"I wish your feet weren't so cold."

He can almost feel her roll her eyes, "seriously? How does that even bother you?"

"Like icicles."

She untangles their fingers to brush at the hairs on his chin. "I wish your beard wasn't so itchy." She gives a tender tug and he lets her pull him to her lips, biting his own so that she is kissing mostly beard. Her hand goes from beckoning him closer to pushing him away as a huff of a laugh escapes her, "dork."

He smiles, unguarded, as her fingers disappear in his locks, "you, too," props himself up on his elbow and leans over her, his free hand slipping under her shirt to brush her hip, calloused fingers catching against soft skin.

She tilts her head up and pulls him into a soft, slow kiss, shivers as his fingers count her ribs, breaks away long enough to whisper "we should go back inside," before finding his lips again.

"Mmm."