Archive of Our Own ^beta

       Love was explained to me in a phonetic language I couldn’t read. It was dragged around and exaggerated to such lengths. Like explaining the scale of a mountain to a colony of ants beneath our feet or perhaps like trying to convince the far advancements of space that a molecule exists. It was a word for an amalgamation of emotions and ideas that everyone just agreed on. No one person could summarize it to me the same. And over the years, I’ve asked a lot of people. It seemed to just be something you had to struggle through blindly until you happened upon it. Or even worse, until it was already gone.

       I felt it then when we were nothing but stardust. Just two small bits of an eclectic whole before time had begun. There were many others in the mix, but when the mass shifted and our two inconsequential existences brushed against each other, I learned what breath was for he stole it from me. Every fiber of my being burned with emotions that didn’t have names yet. And for the briefest of moments, I felt his heat too. It washed over us, threatening to melt us and join us into a brand new singular thing. 

       Would it have been so terrible to become the world’s first invention?

       It must’ve been. Almost as soon as the thought flowed between us, everything shifted to separate us. New strangers pushed themselves against my form, confused and repulsed by the heat I was emitting. I felt the waning waves of his fever as he was dragged away. It flared at times, trying to get back to me, and I wish I had the courage to do the same. I’ll never forgive myself for letting him slip away. Everything seemed so cold by comparison. I felt frozen still without him there. I knew then and there that I needed to devote everything to finding the warmth again.

       The day finally came when She gave me a body. I watched as She worked Her way through the pile of us. We were nothing but a sea of sparks. Vague potential until we could be given shape. I remember studying the way Her fingers reached into the pool, retrieved one of us, and breathed life into our souls. One by one. Over and over. I was enraptured by Her. By Her infiniteness. By Her wholeness. By Her everythingness.

       The words shared between Her and each newly born soul were too distant to make out from the mass. I had no time to think of what to say. My mind raced at what She would manifest me into. What would become of me under Her guidance? I dumbly wondered if She’d say I was good. If She’d think I was a pretty child. If She’d love me. When deft fingers plucked me from the crowd and set me down into Her palm to inspect me, I felt unprepared. I feared saying the wrong words or possibly doing the wrong thing.

       Touching Her skin where She held me had my entire form buzzing. She had a warmth like that other being, but nowhere near as strong. As if he was the sun while She was the rays it casted. Something about that didn’t seem right, but I was cold and She was warm. I took what I could. I was selfish. And that seemed alright with Her for now. Her essence hummed, off a bit at first until the frequency altered its pitch to harmonize with mine. Then a voice came. It was a voice that echoed throughout all of existence. It was a voice that turned heads and demanded to be heard.

       “What would you like to be, my Little One?”

       I felt it again. That heat. She noticed it too. I think it took Her by surprise as She moved me around to keep from burning Herself. The heat isolated itself in specific spots on my being as I solidified into something tangible. Suddenly, there was vision where before there was only insight. My new hands and feet struggled to support myself as I pushed to stand against Her form. I remember laughing as I lost balance, falling into a sit and wrapping my arms around myself for I wasn’t used to my body yet and I feared that my form would scatter if I didn’t keep it together manually. The features of my face creased in a beautiful creation called a smile. My voice was lovely and bubbled out of me in a joyous laugh and trill.

       “I want to be warm, Mama!”

       I had no time to consider if that was a correct answer or not. If I should be laughing in Her face. If I should feel as giddy and alive as I did. But all She responded with was another one of those resonating hums of thought. My new lungs let out such keening sighs at that. Like it couldn’t be helped to respond whenever I heard Her voice. I remember thinking back to that soul I’d met, wondering if he had burned up and chuckled as he was born too. If he’d been born at all yet. And I became warm all over again, my skin turning a pinky red across my newborn face and chest. Happiness was born that day, but it had not come from Her.

       There were so many of us in the beginning. All being born into physical bodies one by one until there were droves of faces to stare at. Our forms then were clothed in fabric cut from the Almighty’s robes. After all, She was all-encompassing and there was plenty of it to spare. The soft warmth of Her was sewn into the weave and buzzed against our new skins. The others seemed hesitant at first, pulling and adjusting their fabrics until they grew used to the idea of warmth and comfort. But I had felt fire before. This barely registered as temperature.

       With a blink of my new eyes, I was once again alone. Once again cold. I remember pulling my new clothes tighter around myself to cling to any warmth I could. The lot of us were scattered across the nothingness to begin what She had planned. A foreign idea was embedded in my skull, herding me to my calling. And what a calling it was. The Almighty was truly gracious for it. I was tasked to fill the cold void of our home with light and warmth. The plans were purposely vague to give me freedom, and She placed my tool in my hands Herself. She trusted me. Something was still missing, though. Piecing together ideas with no real vision could only get me so far. Making the foreseeable future warm on paper was one thing. Executing it was another matter entirely. 

       But it was here sketching concepts and learning the trade I was set to invent that I felt it again. That heat. That warmth. You.

       Across the sky in the far-off distance, there was a streak of white-hot fire. Traveling with such speed that the light it gave off smeared behind it until it once again faded to darkness. It was the same soul I had felt when we were naked in the mass. I was so sure of it. I could feel the heat even from my distance. 

       I had no clue if you remembered me. I still don’t, if I’m honest. But my own flame rekindled at just the thought that you might . What if you knew it was me and had finally found me? How many faces had you looked at before you recognized mine? Were you just as freezing as me for all this time?

       All I had wanted at that moment was to chase your comet tail for the scraps of your temperature. To see if it felt the same now that we both had bodies. I had been dressed with the Almighty’s robes and held the tool of creation in my grasp, but I found no interest in carrying out Her plan. Not without you there. You were my missing ingredient. 

       The world needed us to teach it warmth. Proper warmth. Warmth that could make every inch of the universe boil and blister. Warmth that could bring light to the darkest of days. Warmth that could flood senses and leave those that experienced it feeling whole. No, it wasn’t warmth at all… it was love.

       That was the final push I needed to inspire me to call out to you. 

       And that first moment that you appeared before me was when She started the world’s clock.