Natalie touched a bus stop bench, and it stayed warm long after they'd gone.
Everywhere they went, they left warmth. Not miracles. Not sermons. Just rhythm. And the rhythm was enough.
That night, they found a rooftop again. Higher than before, wrapped in ivy and wind. The city stretched around them, still gray, still asleep - but now, it pulsed faintly. Somewhere deep beneath steel and fear and static, the world was listening.
Jude sat at the center of the roof. The others circled around him, bodies curling together, touching without needing. Their nakedness didn't feel exposed. It felt essential. The wind played through their hair like fingers. Stars blinked above, dim against the haze but trying.
Rose rested her head on his shoulder. "They'll never see the world the same after today."
"They won't know why," Stella said.
"But they'll feel it," Lucy whispered, her hand pressed over Jude's heart.