The city skyline glittered beneath the twilight, a sprawling canvas of lights and life. From the rooftop of their apartment building, I could see it all—the world we'd fought to survive, the chaos we'd overcome, and the peace we'd carved out for ourselves. It wasn't perfect. Nothing ever was. But it was ours.
Five years had passed since everything exploded, since the last battle that nearly tore us apart. The scars still lingered—on our bodies, in our memories—but they were a testament, not a sentence.
I stepped onto the rooftop, the cool breeze ruffling my hair, and found Vinny already there, leaning against the railing, eyes tracing the horizon like he was searching for ghosts. The same restless energy I'd known from day one, now tempered by something softer, steadier.
"Hey," I said, my voice low, the way it always was when I wanted to break through his walls.
He turned, that trademark smirk tugging at his lips, but his eyes held something else—something warm.
"Hey," he replied, stepping closer until our shoulders brushed. "Thought you'd be buried in work."
I shrugged, but I knew better. Work was never the real reason I came up here. It was for moments like this—for us.
We stood in comfortable silence, watching as the city flickered beneath the growing stars. I reached out, sliding my hand into his, fingers weaving together like puzzle pieces finally found.
"Five years," I murmured. "Can you believe it?"
Vinny's grin turned lazy. "Feels like a lifetime and a heartbeat all at once."
I smiled, squeezing his hand. "We survived it all, didn't we?"
"Yeah," he said softly. "And we've got the scars to prove it."
I remembered the nights of fire and fury, the battles that tested us, the betrayals that almost broke us. But here we were—standing strong, together.
The past five years hadn't been easy. After the final showdown with Tom, things didn't magically smooth out. There was healing to do—deep, painful healing—and rebuilding trust wasn't a straight road. But through it all, we held onto each other. Like tethered stars spinning through a chaotic universe, our orbits aligned when it mattered most.
Our careers had taken off in ways I never imagined. I'd finally landed that role that put me on the map—critics loved it, fans adored it, but none of it meant a thing without Vinny by my side. He'd transformed too, leaving behind old ghosts to become something fierce and grounded.
And somewhere along the way, we built a home—not just a place, but a life full of laughter, late-night conversations, and small, perfect moments that stacked up into something beautiful.
I pulled Vinny closer, breath mingling with his. "Remember that night—the one where we finally let go of everything holding us back?"
He chuckled, the sound rich and full. "How could I forget? You practically tore my clothes off the moment we stepped inside."
My smirk deepened. "You weren't exactly innocent."
He winked. "Guilty as charged."
We laughed, the sound echoing into the night like a promise.
But beneath the humor, there was a rawness—an honesty that only years of fighting and loving could bring.
"You changed me," I said quietly. "More than anyone ever has."
Vinny's eyes softened, a flicker of vulnerability shining through. "And you saved me. When I was lost, you were the light."
I brushed my thumb across his knuckles, heart swelling with something fierce and tender. "We saved each other."
The city hummed below, alive with endless stories. Ours was just one thread in the vast tapestry, but to me, it was everything.
Five years later, and I still wanted him like the first time. Still craved the way his lips burned against mine, the way his hands made me feel seen and desired. The fire hadn't dimmed; it had only grown hotter, deeper.
I captured his mouth in a searing kiss, slow and hungry, a silent declaration of everything we'd been through and everything we still had to give.
Vinny melted into me, hands threading through my hair, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us. My heart hammered in my chest, every nerve alive with the familiar ache of longing.
When we finally broke apart, breathless and trembling, he grinned—a mix of mischief and affection.
"Still got it," he teased.
I laughed, nuzzling against his neck. "Don't you forget it."
Life after the storm was quiet, but never dull. We filled our days with ordinary magic—morning coffees on the balcony, stolen kisses in the kitchen, late-night talks that stretched into dawn.
Our friends from those chaotic times had become family. Some faces had faded away, some new ones had slipped in, but the bonds we forged in fire held strong.
Vinny and I had built something rare—something worth fighting for.
The city lights blinked like distant promises, and I knew whatever came next, we'd face it together. Scars and all.
Because love like ours didn't just survive the storm—it burned brighter because of it.
I pulled Vinny's face up to mine, kissing him slow and sweet beneath the stars. The kind of kiss that spoke of forever.
And in that moment, nothing else mattered