We didn't often have our rendezvous under the cover of darkness, but he had insisted on seeing each other today, even though he had been busy with work for most of it.

As I approached 24 Mountain Road, I felt my pace slow and my pulse stutter. He was already outside, waiting for me. Beside him stood his motorcycle.

"Hey," I said as I stepped closer.

His breath came out in a puff of warm air that conquered the cold winter night. Moonlight struck him, illuminating the angles of his face, emphasizing his lips as he spoke. "Hey," he paused, "I was just about to head out."

"Oh," I said. I gave him a questioning look, my pulse racing with dread for a half-second. I had visions of that day back in the fall when he had been preparing to move to the city. Leaving, my mind cried, he's leaving. And once again, it felt as though it was all my fault.

He smiled, noticing the thoughts playing across my face. "No, not like that. Nothing permanent. I wouldn't move away without you. Sometimes I just like to go for a ride." Studying me, he frowned slightly and I felt vulnerable under his eye. With one graceful movement, he slid onto his motorcycle and gestured at me with his chin. "Hop on… I wanna show you something."

Eager, I stepped forward, but stopped just short of the bike. "R-really? I mean, you don't have to. I get that you probably like having this time to yourself. I should have come over earlier."

His eyes narrowed and he raised an eyebrow. "Really," he said with an exacting steadiness. "I mean it. And this is exactly the right time for you to come over."

"Okay," I said softly, and proceeded to clamber on behind him, my footsteps crunching in the snow.

With a roar, we soared into the night.

Clinging to him, I realized just how rapidly my heart was beating. There was an undeniable sense of rightness that came from the feel of my arms encircling him. I had forgotten my gloves at home, but the heat of his body kept me comfortable. Unlike our usual embraces, there was a danger and thrill distilled from the situation itself that highlighted the necessity of my holding him. At this moment, my life depended on him, and I was more than fine about it.

It was a full moon tonight, and its glow was harsh and revealing. There was something about his tone and the set of his jaw that instilled a sense of anxiety in me. It wasn't that I was scared of him or even scared of being on the motorcycle, hurtling down the highway. I was anticipating something, but I wasn't sure what. There was intent and deliberation rolling off him, and as I pressed close to him during a particularly tight turn, he seemed to lean back into me with a reassuring softness.

The light of the moon guided us and cast shadows all about. I could tell that we were on the same highway that we had taken to get to the city before, but something about it was more sinister and cold under the cover of a snow-dusted night.

I wasn't sure how long we had gone when Sebastian signaled and pulled off the highway into a rest area. As we rolled to a stop, I sensed that this wasn't exactly our final destination, and it was with a curious eye that I pulled myself to my feet and watched him do the same.

"Come," he murmured, and grabbed my hand.

Would this sensation of our hands clasped, fingers entwined, ever lose its exhilaration?

It hadn't snowed for some days, and so the parking lot was cleared at the centre with snowbanks piled up at the sides. We left his motorcycle parked in a spot outlined by white paint that was mostly chipped away, and stepped onto what must have normally been grass, away from the restrooms and picnic tables. Nearly hidden by the snow, a narrow dirt path wound away from the amenities around us. It was difficult following it with my eyes as it fell into shadow and drifted into a copse of trees.

It was clear Sebastian was well-acquainted with the place as he maneuvered us easily through the snow-covered underbrush, my boots just barely clinging to the path he forged ahead of me.

As we cleared the edge of the trees, I realized a truth about where we were and my breath caught.

"Is that… is that the edge of a cliff?" I squeaked, pointing with my free hand at what looked like the start of a precipitous drop.

He chewed his bottom lip. "It is, but we don't have to go near it. At least, not yet." He grinned and I made a noise of disgruntlement as he tugged me along.

I wasn't normally afraid of heights, but beyond the edge was a sea of pitch black. Above us the stars twinkled against the backdrop of moonbeams coating the sky, and I trained my gaze upwards, not wanting to think about how far the drop would be off the edge of the cliff.

We walked in relative silence for some minutes until Sebastian stopped and pointed. I dared to look towards the cliff, following the direction of his finger, and gasped.

"Wow," I breathed, my breath visible in the still night. "Is that…?" I trailed off, the words petering out as my hand slipped from his.

A wry smile framed his words. "That's Zuzu City in the distance…"

Against the light from the moon, I saw the city skyline take shape like a great serpentine beast with angular humps for its back. Little beads of light pulsed from the windows of buildings like gleaming scales, and I felt a strange pull deep within my core. I took a step towards the edge of the cliff, and I felt him grab the back of my jacket as some form of assurance. I looked back at him, embarrassed but thankful. I wasn't all that close to the edge, but I appreciated his concern. Before me, the city twinkled and glittered—a creature of glitz and malice.

We lapsed back into silence for a time, each of us taking in the sight before us with measured looks. Finally, he spoke, "I come here when I want to get away from everything and just… think."

I nodded, a silent understanding passing between us that didn't need words for conveyance. There was an undercurrent lapping at the both of us, intensely personal and somehow shared. All at once it was awe-inspiring and terrifying standing at the edge of one world, looking out at another. Behind those lights and towers, there were people, hundreds of thousands of them struggling to carve out a life for themselves.

Surviving, I thought silently. Struggling but surviving.

Behind me, I heard him pull out his lighter and soon I smelled the heady scent of tobacco. I turned just in time to see the remnants of a smoke ring drifting up, past his head and a cigarette balanced between his fingers. I noticed now that he was nervous, although he was also looking more and more at ease as he sucked in breath after breath.

"How long have you known about this place?" I asked. "It's not marked or mentioned at the rest area."

He thought for a moment, his gaze shifting off my face. "Years now. I just stumbled upon it one day when I was upset and rode out of town. It was daytime the first time, and I got lost the second time, but once I had it figured out, it just felt like my spot." He tucked a hand into his pocket. "I've never seen anyone else around here, and it's calm. It feels like I can breathe and sort out my thoughts."

I nodded once more and we both looked out at Zuzu City again. There was something about it—every time I looked out at the city, it felt the same and different, like the scene was static, but the details and my emotions surrounding it changed with every viewing.

Home, purred the voice of the beast, but it was weak and strained.

I flicked my gaze to Sebastian and felt a word reverberate within me as I took in his stance and the downward turn of his mouth. His eyes were glazed with thought and I detected a battle waging itself behind his brow. He put out his cigarette in the snow and pocketed its remains.

No, the word thundered and resounded, echoing within me as it stifled the beast. This is home.

His voice pulled me out of my thoughts and his eyes were troubled. "So, what do you think?" There was a shyness, a question and pleading.

And there were myriad answers I could give, but only one felt right. I picked my words with care. "It gives me a strange, sad feeling," I said, surrendering my gaze out towards the city once more.

I heard the friction of cloth against skin as he nodded. "Yea… that's exactly how I feel, too." Turning at the sound of his voice, I caught the flush of his cheeks in the sheer light. "The city used to draw me in… but now I'm finding myself happier at home in the valley."

I gave him a tentative smile. "I'm glad," I said.

He nodded and though his lips betrayed nothing, I could see a fire in his eyes that burned away the doubt and uncertainty. It crackled merrily and warmed my insides.

I was just about to return my gaze back to the scintillating city when I felt his hand clasp my arm. It was a light squeeze, but enough to get my attention. I looked at him, eyes wide.

"Hey," he said softly, and his voice cracked. There were lines of distress creasing his brow and his hand shook slightly on my arm.

"Mmhm?"

Sebastian took a deep breath. "I don't usually bring girls—or guys, or anyone—to this place… in fact, you're the only one." He blushed deeper now, his cheeks a scarlet that rivalled the red of a freshly ripened apple. "You know what I'm trying to say, don't you?"

I said nothing, but my pulse raced as another layer of comprehension seeped into me. I didn't realize that we were moving closer, leaning into each other, until his face was inches from mine and instinctively, my eyes closed under the weight of the moonlight. His hands found my waist and then his fingers pressed lightly against the small of my back, and I took in a sobering breath of still nighttime air. My arms raised slightly and my hands rested against his chest. A part of me, a wretched vile part, screamed, Push him away. You aren't allowed to have this. But a more dominant part, cried out against it as I felt the beat of Sebastian's heart under my fingertips.

No, I thought, this is right. And I lost my breath as our lips touched.

Time stood still. There was only the beating of his heart, and the beating of my own, wrapped together in a warmth that suffused us both and tore away the cold—a rich sense of relief and satisfaction and joy. The feeling was a slow burn and a spark melded into one; a meal long dreamed of and suddenly here, and I could taste that he longed to feast as much as I did. An undercurrent tugged at us and our hunger ignited into a need that pressed against our inhibitions. The city lay beyond us, forgotten and void of life, as the night ensconced and cradled us to its chest. My fingers crawled their way up until they found his jaw, and he shuddered against my fingertips. The pressure against my back increased and my lips pulled into a smile that caressed his lips into a similar fashion.

As our eyes slid open once again, we broke apart and observed one another with a new keenness, a freshly shared secret. His arms were still wrapped around me and I heard a rawness in his breathing that shook his body.

"Th-thank you for sharing this place with me," I said lightly, my voice unsure of its strength.

His eyes were depthless and dark, full of emotion and something I recognized as longing. He pulled me close and my eyes closed as his lips skimmed my jaw. "You're welcome," he murmured and kissed me again.