He dreamed once, too.
He dreamed about perfection. He saw them standing along the shores of a lazy river, cheek to cheek. He saw the glint of silver dancing in the sunlight and knew it was his sister. He heard the coo of a gentle summer breeze curling it’s fingers through his hair, and he leaned his chin against it’s warm embrace. He dreamed once, too, until he woke with a start. He dreamed until his golden flesh was slick with sweat, and his silver hair was matted tight against his skin with knots and burrs.
He dreamed until it was impossible.
And when it became impossible, he ran.
He ran with magic in his veins. He ran with time instead of marrow in his bones. He ran until the world was not about them, until the world was no longer sunsets and rivers and hazels. He ran until the world bled away like a watercolour, gave way into the realms that they had never existed in. He ran until giant, scaled beasts conquered the earth. He ran until the horizons melted into stars. He ran until nothing existed but the colour black.
So, when she asks him if he calls the stars his home he sits for a moment in quiet contemplation. But only a moment. It doesn’t take long to remember the way they left him. It doesn’t take long to remember how the tragedy of their love consumed them until there was room for nothing else.
…
‘I can’t. I can’t.’ They both said, once.
He’d been there alongside them. He’d seen every second of every syllable they spoke. He knew that there was no belonging in a world that they crafted into existence. He knew before the two of them ever did.
‘I can’t. I can’t.’ They both said once.
‘Don’t. Don’t’ He’d said, unheard.
…
“I don’t call anywhere home,” he says, simply, without hurt in his voice. He has enough in life to distract him from pouring salt into his wounds. There is enough magic here to blind him of the truth. There is enough in these moments, with her hips, with the stars. There is enough.
“I can take you anywhere,” he says then, and he means it. He can feel the truth bleeding in. He can feel the need to run.
elektrum
i am and always will be the optimist