Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

     Starlight rolled over, bunching the linen uncomfortably. The comforter and topsheet were already shed, dumped onto the alabaster floor among the rubble. Each layer of cool cotton was more like a new level of Hell.

     Ripping her pillow over, Starlight dove face first into the sweltering fabric.

      You’re like…the other side of the pillow.

     That’s a new one. Why’s that, Starlight?

     Because you’re refreshing. You make it easier…

      Starlight screamed into the plush, drowning out the memory. Could she even call it a memory? She hadn’t even remembered it until now. Every waking second hurt with a new challenge to everything she knew.

     And reminiscing about Avior was doing anything but helping her sleep. For as much time she spent in this bed, she didn’t sleep in it at all lately.

      How do I know that you’re not the one who trapped me in here!

     Oh, you know what? You got me. I trapped you in here, and in my sick brilliance decided to lock myself in her as well, Einstein.

     It’s called a scheme of similar predicament…

     Who in their right mind would want to falsify something like this?! Especially to get close to a know-it-all like you? 

     I am a delight, thank you very much. 

     I told you, I was attacked!

     And how can I trust someone who just admitted that they’re suspicious enough to be attacked?

      Starlight curled into a sweating ball, whimpering at the stuffy heat. The memories of her first time spent with Avior swirled like lava in her skull.

      For the last time, I did not trap you in here!

      She didn’t know how long she’d scrunched her face up. How long she fought to contain it all. A stubborn tear trailed down her red cheeks.

     “But you did trap me here.” Starlight whispered.

     She scrubbed her face, erasing any cracks of emotion. Creases and wrinkles from the pillow were stamped in red. Abandoning the pillow, Starlight tossed it into the corner. Hair stuck to her skin, itching and cloying like the emotions raging inside. 

     Thinking was something she was proud of. Problem solving was one of her hardest won skills. And now, all thinking and problem solving did was unearth fresh waves of painful experiences and emotion. 

     Every thought was a dangerous tug to vicious feelings. At first, it had only been when she slept. So she’d stopped sleeping.

     It had been three months since she’d left Avior by that little campfire, according to her rough estimates. With nothing else to focus on, all she had to do was decipher all of this or suffer. The conclusion she always came to made her want to vanish.

     That everything he shared had felt real.

     As real as the trap they were living in.

     Starlight moved off the puddle of sweat, drowning the mattress and sticking to her. Her nose was full of the scent of heat. She could taste the smoke underneath all the salt. But none of what she sensed was true.  

     This bed wasn’t real. The quartz spread above her wasn’t real. The cave was mockingly not real, with a true stone texture but four sharp corners and even a door.

     There had to be a truth to this place. There had to be an absolute undeniable fact. Beyond the one that kept blaring in her mind like a train horn. 

     That she didn’t know the way out.

     Starlight bit her tongue, fighting the emotions swelling

     And now her past was seeping into every waking breath.

     Her past…

     Starlight huffed. Was it her past? She had some experiences with mem mods, both the expertly crafted and the novicely placed. Of course Avior would be capable of totally believable memory and emotional modification. But she needed to establish some starting place. Some truth…

     The most overwhelming truth was that she was afraid. Everything was false while also being real at the same time. Starlight clenched her fist in the white sheets. Truth was obsolete. There was danger in blurring lines. Some lines didn’t smudge. Some lines didn’t vanish.

     There were no lines in this place.

     And yet lines that had been crossed.

     Starlight twisted, staring at the wall she’d carved all her thoughts onto. Magic made, she’d destroyed the smooth surface with alabaster flowers sprouting from it. Every resurfaced memory was recorded. Each emotion and why she felt that emotion was cataloged in reliefs of chiseled letters beside it. 

     Inhaling a deep reviving breath, Starlight pushed down her most troubling truth to the next troublesome one.

     There were two paths. 

     Avior was lying.

     Or he wasn’t.

     He could be mixing truth and lies, but that was a whole other web of tangled possibilities.

     So, she’d begun her search on the notion that Avior was telling the truth. There hadn’t been a single discrepancy in her memories. Everything lined up with what he’d shared with her in person. Each new memory of her first six months only confirmed answers to previous questions.

     Avior was thorough. He could be expertly crafting her into a corner.

     Either he was a meticulous psychopathic kidnapper.

     Or he was genuine.

     Starlight flitted her eyes to the list of characteristics she’d identified for Avior. The far wall was gouged with her associated feelings with what she knew and didn’t know. Some of his perceived traits raked through the door. Everything she felt toward what Avior had presented…

     Well, how he carried himself checked out. 

     Avior was far more sarcastic this time around.

     But the soft texture of skin on skin. The way he whispered. His choice in words and thorough evaluation of theories. His love for learning. The uniqueness of how his black oil eyes lit up when defending what he believed. How he reacted to her opinion of demonkind…It all flowed seamlessly together. Avior’s character never strayed from what her memories and new experiences with him had established.

     And how she heard herself in her memories was in line with how she would naturally react. 

     Irritation that had bled into admiration. Snark that shifted into flirting. Riddles and possibilities and ideas debated and weighted back and forth. The slow change of her heart seemed like herself. 

     But…Starlight now?

     Starlight was unraveling. She didn’t know herself anymore. Not trusting herself was a black hole. It was a temptation she’d struggled her whole life to climb out of. Avior’s revelations had truly made this place her own personal hell.

     Pressing flat onto her back, Starlight frowned up at the ceiling. She’d marred and twisted and torn apart the auroras and flecks of bright glow. Ripped it apart with all the doubts and counterpoints to Avior’s words. 

      Liar.

     Liar.

     This is all your fault.

     You are making your own truths and they are not mine.

     Liar.

     Liar.

     Liar.

     You tricked me into loving you.

     I loved you.

     I want to love you.

     LIAR LIAR LIAR.

     There were more eloquent counterpoints somewhere up there. But the deepest wounds were the scaffolding of them all. Shutting her eyes, Starlight turned her face away from the ceiling. She counted breaths until she could get her sweltering rage to calm down.

     She waited for her breathing to calm and the humidity to stop suffocating her. Eventually, she managed to get her magic in order. Typing her fingers onto her thighs, Starlight’s magic began clawing new words into the wall beside her.

     It was best to record the memories while they were fresh.

     Fresh. She’d found Avior refreshing. Right now, that was frustrating. But at the time, it had been her greatest comfort.

     With him, there had never been an ulterior motive. Avior consistently was blunt about what he wanted. He didn’t veil his opinion, and all he wanted was to get out.

     She’d spent her life working up the courage to be the same. Avior was consistently and simultaneously infuriating and inspiring. It had been jarring to have that as her sole companion after being flushed through so much colliding magic. Her initial shock and anger had almost faded into that familiar self doubt beside it…

     Until Avior had challenged her with a weak spine.

     And then she’d had no problem beating him over the head with what she believed.

     He was insufferable.

     Incredibly open minded to trying to understand new things.

     But stubborn. Starlight clenched her jaw. Stubborn and as immovable as her bomber jacket was from her back. Even in summer, Starlight wore it around her waist. She was burning alive in this Hell, but she was letting herself melt inside the comfort of her jacket.

      Let me wear it.

      No way, you’ll put holes in it.

      It’s not going over my horns, Starlight. I just want to understand why you love it so much.

      By wearing it? Your shoulders are too wide…

      The best way to understand a person is by walking in their shoes. And I definitely don’t want to wear your shoes.

     What’s wrong with them?!

     Nothing. I was just saying that so I could take the jacket.

       AVIOR GIVE THAT BACK!

      You’re kinda cute when you jump like that…oof hey!

     You’re kinda cute hunched over holding your stomach like that. If you wanted to wear it, you should have asked.

     I did ask.

     Ask again.

     Ugh…Very well, my Starlight. May I have the honor of trying on your jacket?

     Don’t do that.

     Do what?

     Try to manipulate me with that smooth voice.

     Mmmm…you think my voice is smooth?

      Mouth crumpling, Starlight slung her elbow over her eyes. She couldn’t keep reliving these things. Couldn’t keep envisioning the heaven they’d made here. The virtue of dragging her back to this place destroyed…It completely destroyed the virtue that this place had once been a heaven.

     Spending two years alone in something that once had been heaven…She shut out the thought. Sympathy would cover any holes in Avior’s lies.

     Terror still seized her when she thought about that though. A part of her wanted to make it heaven again.

     Starlight abandoned the wall of feelings and turned over to the wall for escape. She’d conquered every escape room she’d ever done. This was just the worst escape room yet. Every not day, Starlight marched herself to the nearest void. She’d organized most of her time for experimenting and hypothesizing and reevaluating every strain of magic that she knew until she collapsed from exhaustion. 

     Was it a maze? Were there smaller tasks needed to be done before confronting the Meridian? Did it take a combination of magical disciplines? Did she need to reach through the Meridian and draw power from Elegy in some way? Does the Meridian demand more than one individual? Did it require a sacrifice?

     Starlight had bled dry her well of knowledge about dream magic. Maybe a collision of dream magic and demonic power would be the water to this fire. Or it would be gasoline.

     The whole wall was carved with failed attempts and crossed out plans. There were more ideas that required physical interaction…but she wasn’t willing to touch the void. Not yet.

     Any other ideas…well. She couldn’t do them without Avior.

     She didn’t want to see him. Not because she was afraid of seeing Avior again. She just didn’t know what she would do the next time she did.

     And she was sick of not knowing.

     Starlight clawed her hand through the air, ripping a chunk of obsidian out of her escape plans. Rock crashed and clapped. It filled her calming breaths with plumes of dust, tasting like grit down the back of her throat. Stuffing her nose into the mattress, Starlight forced any tears to stop. 

      Hey hey hey. Starlight, don’t do that.

     I can do what I want.

     I’m aware. But I want you to be able to keep doing what you want. Can I hold you? Do…do you want me to hold you?

     Yes.

      “No…” Starlight’s shoulders rocked, absent of any tears while trying to recover her breathing. This room wasn’t the same one Avior had shared with her the first time. They hadn’t shared a room until their last month together…So little time…Why did that hurt so much?

     Starlight heaved, demanding control. Their first room had been entirely more cavelike, with an opening that faced a comforting series of quiet tunnels. Stalagmites and stalactites pierced the cleaner air like teeth. Avior had crafted them two beds at first. Starlight had pushed them together the first night.

     Avior had finished the job by stitching them together. She’d burned the walls with plans and theories. He’d turned the spaces in the ceiling into his name for her. Starlight groaned. She still referred to herself by that blessedly cursed name.

     There were no stars in this place.

     There was no way out.

     Starlight was here and not here at all. Sitting up, she stared at the new room, so much more homelike than a cave.

     Everything she knew and felt and hoped for and hated ripped apart the walls. Wounds in stone. Starlight shut her eyes. They might as well be stained on the inside of her eyelids. 

     Starlight was everywhere and absolutely nowhere at all.

     Pain lanced through her. Starlight bit at a chunk inside her lip, keeping any more shuddering breaths from escaping. Lashes glued together, Starlight ripped her jacket off. The air wasn’t any less stifling. Rage clogged her chest, but Starlight fought the scream. She was ready to tear down the world.

     She just didn’t know how.

     Swallowing a huge breath, Starlight reigned everything in until she was nothing but simmering indifference. No more tears. Exhaling smoothly, she sequestered all her fury deep down for a special time and a special place. And for a special someone.

     It all came back to him.

     And she didn’t know how to feel about him either.

     “You don’t want him.” Starlight hissed.

     She was in control.

     “You don’t want him.”

     She was in control.

     “You would be better off if he didn’t exist at all.”

     She was in control. She was in control. She was…

     Flickering.

     Light flickered at the edge of her eyelids.

     Starlight gazed up, trying to understand what she was seeing.

     The quartz sky was fading. Starlight straightened. The stars in the ceiling were disintegrating, pooling back into the mess they’d been before. 

     “What…” Starlight shrieked, her foot falling through the bed like it wasn’t there. Rushing off the sheets, Starlight stumbled over the blanket puddling the floor. She gaped as the bed began to contort and vanish. She ripped her eyes to the floor. Where the obsidian flowers were cracked and scraped off the walls, like petals torn from gravestones.

     They were crumbling into nothing.

     Starlight froze.

     None of her markings changed.

     It was Avior.

     Avior’s magic was vanishing.

Chapter Text

     Avior’s magic was vanishing.

     Starlight grabbed her jacket before the bed vanished altogether, her feet rushing her out the door before she could think. She nearly took every door off the hallway’s hinges. Her gut sank when she opened the door to Avior’s waiting place.

     The floor was a sea of ash, spraying as she plowed through it. Violently crimson clouds lit up with thunder before bleeding back into the dark. Soot splashed as she ground to a halt.

     Avior’s campfire was sputtering. The logs were the last thing to disappear.

     Panic burned in her veins. She was racing back to search the other levels and doors.

      Hey, Avior?

      He wasn’t in their first room. The caves and tunnels echoed with her run, empty like Avior had never been there at all.

      Yes, my Starlight?

      She tripped on her heel, chin colliding with the stone. Starlight tasted blood and salt.

      I’m glad you’re here. With…with me. I’m sorry it had to be this way…

      Jaw stinging, she scoured the screams and smoke.

      Starlight. Don’t ever apologize for that. You know you’re not to blame.

      Her lungs stopped working. Starlight pumped her arms, racing across sand and stone and rivers. 

      My love, do you know why I call you Starlight?

     She remembered Avior taking her chin so softly in his hand, turning her to face him. Everywhere she turned now, she couldn’t find him.

      Because you have a fascination with Willy Wonka?

      The memory of his laugh was being drowned out as she screamed for him. She blended in perfectly with the suffering souls.

      No. It’s because, without the night…

     She couldn’t find him. She couldn’t find him.

      You can’t see the stars…

      Starlight inhaled ash. Darkness and fire and wine colored flames smothered everything as she dashed onto the fourth circle.

      And I would relive every dark moment of my life…

      Not knowing what else to do, she pounded toward the inner ring of jagged cliffs. Where the grass was brittle and crunched.

      Starlight. I would relive every dark moment of my life, for the night where I got to see you shine. 

      She froze in her tracks.

      If I could only ever see you in this dark, I am grateful for it. But I will make it my life’s work and the purpose of all that I am to ensure you don’t stay here.      

     Avior was there. Avior was there.

     He was a black silhouette against the firelight, staring down into the inferno and thorns.

      What do you mean it’s not letting you go?!

      Starlight walked past the void.

      Avior! Help!

      He frowned down into the expanse, horns curling up toward a sky with no stars.

      You can’t have them!

      Starlight reached for Avior.

      Starlight reached for Avior.

     He was falling.

     He was falling.

      Avior was falling. He was going over that edge, eyes wide on the sight of her being swallowed by the Meridian.

      Avior!

     Starlight!

      “Avior!” Starlight collided with his back, tearing him away from the edge.

     He jumped, twisting and gaping down at her. Avior had to raise his arms not to whack her with his elbows. “What…”

     “What are you doing?!” She screamed up at him, pushing him back toward the outer circle. Avior blinked, confusion furrowing his brow. 

     “Starlight…” He paused, taking her in.

     “You could have gotten hurt! What were you thinking?!”

     Avior frowned. “What are you talking about? I…Starlight?”

     Sobs bubbled past her lips. Avior froze. His hands flexed up, hovering but unsure where to land. 

     Somewhere deep in the back of her mind, Starlight cursed herself. She wanted to take his hands and shove them away. She didn’t know what to do…She was so tired…

     Starlight beat her fist against his chest. “You stupid…stupid demon, you could have…”    

     “Starlight? What’s going on…was…did you have a nightmare?”

     “This is a nightmare!” Starlight pounded weakly against his frame, sinking to her knees before he could keep her upright. “You could have fallen again! I could have lost you again! I…I…” 

     Starlight didn’t know what to do. So she settled for falling apart. Tears suffocated her lungs as she folded over her knees, heaving toward the harsh earth.

     She couldn’t hear anything over the sounds wreaking havoc on her throat. Air wouldn’t stay down for long. All it did was carve her lungs up. There wasn’t even any embarrassment anymore. Nothing in her felt motivated to stop. All she wanted to do was roar out sobs until the dirt between Avior’s shoes turned to mud. 

     Fabric whispered over her shoulders. 

     Starlight jumped.

     Avior was kneeling, fixing something over her shoulders with a solemn expression. Glancing back down, she stared at her stuffy breathing filling out her shoulders. Avior finished readjusting her jacket around her trembling frame.

     “You dropped this.” Avior murmured, evening out any wrinkles. He didn’t dare meet her wide, raw, and puffy eyes.

     The ache resonating off him was eating her whole. Starlight had envisioned seeing him again, after their last conversation. How she’d stomp up to him and poke his chest and demand she take the lead in escape.

     “Starlight,” He drew his thumb across her chin. Blood filled the lines of his skin. “You’re bleeding.” 

     Blood…Blood…The word and what it was associated with disconnect in her brain. Starlight stared past her blurring vision. That color staining Avior’s fingers…That was blood. She remembered when she’d been blown off the cliff, shocked to see herself bloodied and twisted when she woke up. Starlight had forgotten she could bleed.

     “Do you want me to heal it?”

     Starlight’s head swam. Nothing was coming together inside.

     “Are you alright?” Avior asked.

     Why had she run out here? “Your…your magic…” No more words came out. Staring hurt. The pressure and itch behind her forehead and eyes made her want to curl up on the cliff and never move again.

     “What about my magic?”

     “The bed…the bed and the flowers and…and stars.” Starlight managed around her sniffling. “It was all going out.”

     Avior’s sharp brow jumped a little. “Going out?”

     “Your fire…was gone. Your campfire vanished.”

     “Oh…I’m sorry. I…I didn’t realize…I was wondering if they were bothering you, and I wondered if you’d prefer them without, but I didn’t mean to make them go away.” 

     Avior scooted back, clearing his throat. “I stopped concentrating on fighting the trap’s design for a moment. I didn’t think that your room would collapse. I should have kept that at the forefront of my mind, I apologize.”

     Did she want the bed? When all Starlight did was mournfully stare, Avior risked another glance in her direction. Coughing, he turned his hand. A handkerchief wove itself out of the smoky air, settling in his fingers like a limp dove from a magician’s hand.

     “For your nose.” Avior offered.

     Starlight’s lips trembled, not taking her focus off of his face. He was in front of her again, after nothing but memories and thoughts. She tried to grasp at memories. Tried to weave together what her mind was providing and what Avior had both proven and disproven. 

     The slope of his nose. The black riveted curl of his horns, with needlelike facets she’d imagine would be perfect for putting shoelaces through. His black eyes and the notch permanently in his brow from always thinking.

     Had she loved that face?

     “Starlight? Do you want the handkerchief?”

     Handkerchief…That word sounded familiar, through the fog of her thoughts. Did she know that word? Starlight blinked, dropping her chin robotically to stare at Avior’s waiting hand. Handkerchief. Strange word. Long word for the little cloth in his fingers.

     Had she asked him things like that before all this?

     Did she trust these kinds of gestures from him once?

     Wind pushed at them, whipping Starlight’s loose hairs into her lashes. She tasted snot on her top lip. Sniffing hard, Starlight looked away and wiped her face on her sleeve.

     “Starlight, are…” Avior’s brow pinched. “Are…you alright?”

     Tears burned, ready to fall again. She was swinging violently between passionate emotions and disconnected lapses. Numbness and potency swirling so quickly was making her head spin.

     “I can put the bed back. I didn’t mean to frighten…”

     “I…I don’t…”

     Avior went silent, dropping his hands to the dirt staining the knee of his pants. 

     “...know.”

     Whatever had been icing any coherent thought broke like a flood. 

     “I don’t know.” Starlight rasped. “I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know!”

     Avior fingers flexed again. He strangled his pants, grief twisting his face.

     “I don’t know anything!” Starlight grabbed her head, digging her knuckles into her skull. “I don’t know if I’m alright! I don’t know what to believe. I don’t know!”

     Saying the horrifying truth out loud…and in front of him…It utterly undid her. Hyperventilating, Starlight pushed her palms into her eye sockets, trying to stem the downpour of tears. “I don’t…I…I don’t…”

     “Hey hey hey.” Avior took her wrists gently, taking them to her lap. “You…you don’t have to know…everything.” He swallowed the word. “Let’s…start with something you know. You know…that you have your jacket.”

     “I…don’t know what to do…” Starlight whispered brokenly.

     Avior winced, turning his face away and abandoning his futile attempt to comfort her. “I’m sorry I put you in that position.” 

     Starlight hated him for that. How he shied away. She should have hit him for it. For everything. 

     “You’re going to help me get out of here.” Starlight managed, with as much demanding authority as a child. Avior nodded, brow turned upward in pain. “I want another bed.” Starlight sniffed, equally as mature as before.

     “Alright…”

     “And you…you’re going to…” Starlight swayed, scrunching her face as exhaustion and pain railed inside her skull. 

     Avior didn’t say a word, waiting for Starlight’s next point of negotiation. The only sounds were her labored breathing and the wind for several minutes. 

     And then the slumped thud of her body into his.

     Avior let Starlight collapse into his shoulder. Blood and snot muddied his collar. He adjusted her against him, listening to her drift off into an exhausted sleep. 

     “I got you.” He looped his arms under her knees. Easing her into the cradle of his chest and arms, Avior stood and put his back to the cliff. “I got you, Starlight.”

     She heard his voice far away. Beyond the stuttering breaths making her chest bounce. Lucid moments sloshed inside her brain like overwhelming waves, crashing into her attempts to rest. 

      Hey, Starlight?

     Avior?

      Each step was even and steady. 

     You’ve been uncharacteristically quiet. Is everything alright?

Chapter Text

    Hey, Starlight?

    Avior?

     Each step was even and steady. 

     You’ve been uncharacteristically quiet. Is everything alright?

     Starlight jerked slightly when the door creaked. Avior stopped for a moment. Through fluttering lashes, she managed to see the forced lack of emotion as he read the walls. There may have been a tear when he looked at the ceiling.

      I’m just thinking, Avior.

     The bed bowed underneath Avior’s knee. There wasn’t any wood to creak. The frame was made of alabaster stone. 

      Don’t try to fool me, you always think with your mouth. 

     The mattress was firm and cold, like a blanket of ice cradling her limbs.

      Maybe…it's not my mouth I’m thinking about.

     Avior fixed her jacket on top.

     Not your mouth…Wait. What? … Stop smirking at me like that.

    Oh come on, you can’t be embarrassed. After all the flirting you gave me yesterday.

     “Get some rest.” The bedding bobbed as Avior moved away. Starlight twisted, searching for him with closed eyes.

     I was not flirting. I was teaching you about astrology.

    And my name would just happen to be a coincidence? Pity, I guess I’ll just have to put my mind to more important things than your lips.

     Starlight’s fingers found Avior’s wrist. He stopped moving.

    “Put them back.” Starlight grumbled.

    “Put what back?”

    “The stars…” Starlight huffed, opening her eyes weakly. “You have to put the ceiling back.”

     I…I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to…To be so forward. But, since you’re enjoying this so much.

    Hey! Put me down!

    Do you want me to think about your lips in turn? Since you seem so fond of mine, and my…smooth voice.

    It’s the only reason…I…um…its the only reason I find your theories interesting. 

    The only reason? Hmmm. You can put your arms around my neck, you know. I don’t bite.

    Oh…that’s a shame. What do demons do then?

     “I put the stars back.” Avior’s voice muffled her memory. “I can leave you alone…”

    “You’re…you’re in trouble.” Starlight murmured feebly.

    “I know.”

    “You can’t leave since you’re in trouble.” Starlight pouted, eyelids refusing to open.

     We do lots of things, Starlight. What would you prefer?

     “Stay?” Starlight whimpered, fingers loosening on Avior.

     If…if you couldn’t call me Starlight, what would you call me?

    I…I would call you…

    Slowing your voice won’t win me over.

    I think I’ve already won…my love.

     “If…if that’s what you want.” Avior swallowed thickly.

    Starlight tugged, her arm flopping to the bed as she drifted completely under. 

     I think…

    What do you think, Starlight?

    I think…I know I love you, Avior.

     Starlight woke up with puffy eyes and a clogged nose. Her face itched from tears. Breathing in, she realized her face was pressed completely into Avior’s back. He smelled like rain and books, even in this hell. Starlight turned over, blinking in surprise.

     Avior had set her on one end of the bed.

     He was hugging the edge of his side now. As far as possible from where he’d originally placed her. Starlight stared down her body, pressed completely against him.

     She looked up. He’d put the stars back. But he’d left the words she’d put there too.

     “I tried to sit on a chair beside the bed.” Avior spoke over her rustling. She turned to his back, realizing one of her arms was tossed over his side. “You were upset until I climbed into bed, and then you refused to let go. But I can move now…”

     Starlight silenced him with a kiss to his spine. Pressing her lips off of his cotton shirt, Starlight felt his whole body go rigid. “You’re still in trouble.” Starlight whispered.

     He laughed, bumping her nose gently. “How are you feeling?”

     “Just…feeling.”

     Avior nodded. “I understand that. I’m…I’m glad you are. I went a long time without feeling, it’s difficult to have it flood back all at once.”

     Silence washed over them. Starlight didn’t try to keep track of the time anymore.

      “Do you want space?” Avior asked.

     Starlight watched his sides rise and fall with gentle breaths. “Maybe later, right now…” She sighed and clung to him a little tighter. “Is that alright?”

     “If that’s what you want, I’m here.”

     “Thank you.”

     “Rest well.”

     “You too…” Starlight paused. “Thank you.”

     Avior’s voice was bright.“You already said that.”

     “For putting the stars back.”

    “Don’t give me all the credit. You helped put them there.”