AN: Sorry for the long break! I've completely lost inspiration for the prompts list I've been using and had to find a new one. If you're reading this, thanks for your continued support.

PROMPT #11: ROOFTOP

Nico stood at the rooftop's edge, staring down at a city of shadows and smoke, the artificial lights of all of New York's buildings shining up and giving him a headache. Or worsening his headache, more accurately. To be completely honest, the throbbing pain had started at least an hour ago, around the same time dinner was served and Rachel's dad's associate's cousin's daughter's friend had somehow managed to mistake Nico di Angelo for someone who wanted to listen to a stranger whine about their cat incessantly.

"I thought I'd find you out here."

Nico tensed, but did not turn. He knew it was Rachel standing behind him. Not because he knew her voice as well as his own, not because he was well acquainted with the sensation of her eyes on the back of his head, not because her footsteps made a sound so familiar to him they were unmistakable. Because nobody else would have noticed he was gone, let alone cared enough to go after him.

After a long pause in which Nico made no response, Rachel walked closer, sidling in next to him, leaning against the railing.

"We're not doing this," she said softly.

"Doing what?"

"The rooftop scene. The pivotal point of every hackneyed romcom the world has ever seen."

Nico scoffed and leaned further forward, eyes dead set on a point in the distance. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh come on, you know. The misunderstood, handsome love interest feels out of place and sneaks away to the rooftop, closely followed by his doting, but oblivious, girlfriend, where they have a passionate discussion about their feelings," she spoke the words carefully, shifting her tone from playful to bitter to sarcastic; whatever she thought Nico wanted to hear at the time.

"I'm not interested in a passionate discussion about feelings."

"I know. That's why I said we're not doing this."

Nico let out a low grunt that Rachel took to be something between affirmation and amusement. Sighing, she leaned closer to him and rested her head against her shoulder. After some time he relaxed and wound his arm around her.

"I'm sorry I made you come. I know these…banquets or whatever aren't really your thing. Not that they're my thing, I just meant, I know how much you hate coming, and…" she trailed off, looking up at him to gauge his reaction.

"It's okay."

Rachel sighed. Nico had always been a man of few words when he was brooding about something, and she'd gotten used to it. But it was still difficult to move past when she felt guilty for dragging him into her problems and she knew he was angry, possibly even with her, and every moment that passed in silence heightened her anxiety until she would have preferred if he was yelling or throwing a tantrum or something. Anything. As long as he broke the thick tension the stretched between them and made him feel so distant.

"How do they end?"

Rachel jumped at the sound of his voice, looking up in confusion. "What?"

"The rooftop scenes."

"Oh," she gave a small, slow smile. "Well, it depends on the movie. Usually, someone either leaves in a huff, or…"

"Or what?" At last he turned to look at her, his mouth set in an expressionless line, but his eyes soft and amused.

"Or we say we love each other and you kiss me."

"Hmm," he leaned forward, tightening his hold on her waist and pausing only when their lips were inches apart. "Good thing we're not doing the whole rooftop scene thing, then."

Rachel rolled her eyes and laughed despite herself before saying, low and playful, "Shut up, Nico," and kissing him.