Prelude 1.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā athazagoraphobia
Ā Ā Ā (n.) the fear of forgetting, being forgotten or ignored or being replaced.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā It hurts for you to remember.
It hurts to remember when you were nothing more than a wild haired, dog eared girl living on an island with your dog/god/guardian, free to run barefoot in the grass, dive into the clear sea, and marvel at the stars at night.
Now all you ever see is stars.
It hurts that you can hardly recall what the sun felt like on your once tanned skin, now forever speckled with stardust, or the sharp tang of mint tea on your tongue, which has slowly turned translucent over the centuries.
but...
It hurts to remember him the most.
Every time a memory, (bright and clear as if the universe itself is mocking you.) washes into your mind, of the two of you in the garden, of his smile when you agreed to meet his father, his tendency to call you āHarleyā, his love for shitty romantic poetry, the spark of warmth that you felt deep in your belly when he laid your bare back against the soft grass and proceeded to murmur sweet nothings into your ear and everything seemed to align into one perfect mome-
It tears and burns at your skin, every memory like a blade that slices and scrapes at you until thereās nothing but red.
(his color had been red, his blood the brightest shade you had ever seen.)
You scream, loud and primal, to the suns, moons, all the stars and distant planets spinning through this grand universe, I hate you, I hate you, IĀ hate you!
But there is nobody who can hear you, no one to notice as your howls shift into sobs, no one to comfort you as you collapse onto your knees and tear at your hair, begging for the stars embedded within it to leave, to let you be mortal again, to let this eternal cycle of him never remembering and you always knowing end, so your memories wonāt turn into nothing more than dust in the wind like you fear every. single. day.
(How many more lives will it be until he remembers you?
How many more years will you appear before him in his dreams, silently pleading for something, a glint of recognition in his eyes, a knowing smile, or for him to call you Harley, only for him to stare at you blankly?)
You consider crying some more, for there is nobody but the cold empty stars floating above your head and the dust of worlds long forgotten swirling at your feet. However, before you can properly settle down into a proper IĀ wanna feel sorry for myself, and eat as much ice cream as I wantĀ position, when a patch of space across from you ripples and a figure walks through.
oh.
Itās Karkat.
HeĀ looks the same as always with his short stature, mussy hair and a permanent frown stuck on his face.Ā
Itās been that way for over 234 lives.
Yet, heās never come to you before.
āSorry, I didnāt hear from you for the past few nights so I- he freezes at the sight of your tear stained face and crumpled dress and his hard expression shifts into something much softer.
āWhat the fuck happened?āĀ His voice is low and calm, and it feels like a life ring in the raging ocean that is your thoughts. A hand comes to rest lightly on your shoulder and you shudder slightly before leaning into his touch.
āI just...... remembered something.ā you sniff and rub at your nose, even though thereās nothing there.Ā
His eyebrow quirks upward.
āSo, you got upset over a memory?ā He shuffles closer and gives a shake of his headĀ āThatās a bit strange if you think about it.ā
āSays the man who cried when watching 500 Days of Summer for the first time.ā You shoot back, something like amusement bubbling in your belly.
āShut up, Harley.ā
You freeze.
(You only told your name to him once since this entire thing began, Ā in his second life before you realized that theĀ efforts to restore his memory were near futile.
so perhaps...)
and you wait.
He shuffles beside you, murmuring your name under his breath over and over, stealing glances at you, until finally you see it click into place.
āJade.ā He says your name as if itās live givingĀ breath. Ā āJade.āĀ He says it with so much love and quiet reverence that it makes all of these millennia waiting worth it.Ā
He lifts your chin with a warm smile and you fall into his arms with a choked sob, letting every emotion youāve held back pour out.
It doesnāt hurt anymore.
