Nia returned with the promised takeout food. She and Patrick didn't bother to speak, despite tension building between them after their kiss. Even after they had called Costello over to eat dinner, they didn't utter a word to one another.

Patrick keeps his head down, focusing on his plate that is slowly clearing. There's only the occasional sound of silverware nicking the glass plates and Nia reminding Costello to eat his vegetables that are mixed in the chow mien. Patrick forces himself to glance up, noticing that Costello is making a face of disgust at the various veggies on his plate. A quiet chuckle elicits from him while studying the boy.

"You know who eats a lot of vegetables?" he asks almost rhetorically. Costello looks up at Patrick, curiosity now replacing disgust on his features.

"Donatello eats his vegetables," he continues.
"He eats pizza," Costello frowns. His disapproving face returns as he looks at his dinner again.
"True," Patrick chuckles. "But there's also veggie pizza. The vegetables make him strong and it helps him fight all the bad guys. Don't you wanna to be strong like him?"

Costello pauses for a moment, thinking. He then nods and wills himself to eat the mixed vegetables on his plate. Patrick chuckles at the child again, remembering that he possessed the same innocence when he was Costello's age.

The light clamor claims the room again. Patrick goes to remind Nia of their younger years, but she dodges all possible ways of eye contact with him. He quickly takes note of it and finishes the last few bites of food on his plate. Patrick stands from his seat and takes his plate, cleaning it and leaving it to dry on a rack. He locates his keys on a hook by the door.

"Hey, uh, I'm gonna head out for a bit," Patrick says. He instantly regrets stating it into the void, knowing that Nia wasn't really listening. Did she even care? The blond shrugs slightly at the silence and takes his keys before heading out the door. He decides to take the stairs to the entry level of the apartment complex, trying to focus more on the steps rather than the freckles on Nia's skin.

Patrick forces the thought out of his head as he gets to his car. He awakens the vehicle from its slumber with no specific destination in mind. He just drives, trying to escape from his mind. He drives away from his thoughts, the memories, the buzzing questions, the ideas and unsolved ponders. He drives away from her.

For once, Patrick feels grounded as he exits Nia's orbit. He sees Chicago in a new perspective. It's unsettling to him; it's enough to send a chill down his spine. Patrick has grown used to Nia's personal solar system. Landing somewhere different without her— or any intention correlated with her— made him feel strange. He felt as if the colors around him became more muted. The city became quieter. His head didn't feel so heavy.

Patrick parks along a lonesome curb. He blows a sigh, trying to become familiar with this new feeling. Did he like it? Is this what he wanted? Is this the peace he had searched for after eight years? He lulls his head to lean against the window. The night's cool air seeps through the glass, attaching itself to his pale skin. It reminds him of the refreshing side of his pillow during sleepless nights. Strangely enough, Patrick starts to miss his pillow.

His eyes flick up to the dark blue abyss above him that possesses white freckles. His mind instantly shifts back to Nia. He almost wants to curse himself for the relapse, but he can't blame himself. Nia is the stars, the sun, the planets. Nia is also Chicago. In a way, Nia is home. She's familiar.

Patrick's phone buzzes in the tray full of spare change. Nia's caller ID appears on the screen as the device wriggles against various circles of silver and copper. He picks up the phone and answers it.

"Hello?" Patrick answers, his voice just above a whisper. For some reason— despite Nia calling him— he expects her to continue the awkward silence that he escaped from his own home.

"H-Hey, uh..." Nia stammers, "where... where are you?"

Patrick looks around his surroundings. He knows where he is, knows how he got to his destination, but doesn't have solid answer. He settles with a bit of a groan and mumbles "I don't know."

There's a momentary pause.

"Why? What's up?" the blond man asks.
"No reason," Nia mumbles. "I just put Stello to bed. He fell asleep on the couch, so try to be careful when you come back. Or, uh, if you come back."

Patrick heaves a sigh as he sits up in his seat. He balances the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he starts the car up again, allowing it to warm up.

"Look, Nia, about what happened earlier—"
"Don't worry about it," she chuckles weakly. "It was stupid."

Something in Patrick dies upon hearing the three words from the ear piece.

"Yeah," Patrick says, his mind now distant again. "It was stupid. I wasn't thinking."

"Don't worry about it," Nia repeats. "When are you coming home?"
"I'm on my way back," Patrick says as he pulls out of the parking space. He returns to the asphalt streets, retracing his steps home. He glances at the clock on his radio, finding it to be almost midnight.

"I hadn't realized it was so late," he chuckles weakly.
"It's fine," Nia says. "Also, I'm sorry for giving you such a cold shoulder tonight."
"It's alright," Patrick justifies, though he still had no idea why she did it. Maybe it was embarrassing for her. Maybe she didn't feel the same way and this was her way of tell him. Each theory that swam in Patrick's head only made his heart sink lower and lower, soon burying itself in the pit of his stomach.

"I'll see you when I get home," he says before hanging up and focusing on something else— driving. Confusion clouds his head even more, thoughts making his head feel heavy again. The stirring "what if's" made him feel exhausted, yet restless.

Patrick reclaims his precious parking space and trudges back into the the complex. He wills himself to climb up the stair to his floor, down the hallway until he reached the door to his home. He remembers that Costello is asleep on the other side. Nia just might be asleep too. Patrick quietly unlocks the door and enters, closing the door behind him gently. He locks the door as he tugs his shoes off by the heels and shuffles them near the door.

He returns his keys to their designated hook and walks through the living room. He spots Costello curled up on the couch under a duvet. The boy clutches the Raphael plush close to him, his brow, wavy locks starting to choreograph their morning mess.

Patrick enters his own room, finding a sleeping figure in his bed. The dim lighting doesn't give much away, but he is sure that it's Nia. The blond gathers his pajamas for the night before escaping to the bathroom to change into them. The last thing he would want to do it make the situation more awkward by undressing in front of Nia. One kiss was enough to earn him more questions and pending anxiety. Once he changes, he leaves the bathroom, tossing his former clothes into the hamper before crawling into bed.

He lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling as he waits for sleep to claim him. Nia stirs beside him. She turns towards him, moving closer and closer until she places a hand along his jaw. She guides him to face her, allowing her to close the small gap between them.

Patrick lies there, questions swirling in his head. None of them are coherent, but he knows he's more confused than he was before. Before he can pull away to try to make sense of the scenario, Nia straddles him, keeping him connected to the stars on her lips. He can feel black holes try to deprive him of his shirt. Panic rises in his chest.

"H-Hey!" he whispers harshly, pushing Nia away from him. He glances at her hands, then her face. "What is this? What are you doing?"

Nia remains quiet. Patrick can barely make out the nebula of a blush that claims her cheeks under the moonlight, but he does notice it. The violet-eyed woman studies Patrick, caressing his cheek gently. The small gesture is enough to make his mind go blank.

"Just for tonight," Nia whispers. To that, Patrick nods; he allows her to continue. Rational thinking becomes more and more of a distant memory as he's reunited with gentle stars, gripping black holes, and full moon smiles. He almost hates himself for missing them, but that underlying disappointment fades quickly once he's reunited with the stars, connecting constellations along her shoulders and collarbone.

After all, she was familiar. After coming back from being grounded in a muted world, she is the only place that truly feels like home.

A/N:
You know that part in a book when you finally understand why it has a specific title? :^)
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