Cancer × The Streetcorner Stargazer
Whoever shows up, they brew a pot of tea; but the moment the moon ebbs, they quietly pull the door shut.
The friend who makes anywhere feel like a kitchen table. The Streetcorner Stargazer reads the warmth of the passing moment; Cancer turns that warmth into care, so a curb, a bus stop, a queue becomes somewhere people feel held for a minute. Altair's ordinary glow and Cancer's home instinct, out on the street.
You remember the small things strangers tell you. The barista's exam, the neighbor's sick dog. People feel known by you after one conversation, because you actually were listening, and you'll ask about the exam the next time you see them.
The catch is the over-attachment. Cancer holds on and the Stargazer bonds fast, so a passing moment can leave you more invested than the other person ever was, and the small ache when they don't keep in touch.
Not every warm hour was meant to last. That's allowed.
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A mirror, not a prophecy. It reflects you as you are right now. How you walk is still yours to choose.