#u ask

It was the aftermath of a long night spent in the comfort of another; a warmth that Javier would dull his aches to, a fire that when stoked, kept his loneliness away- if only for a little while.

There was no morning sun to greet him- no light at the break of dawn. Just the countless, endless expanse of distant glowing, fading stars.

Javier rolled his cotton shirt over his head, the trace touches of your fingertips gripping at the locks of his hair, ghosted still. His shirt rolled over the reddened scratch marks of your nails and bruising- purple flowers blooming in the wake of your lips against his skin. Like the ash and coals and soot of a flame, he carried traces of you- of last night- with him.

Fitting then- to look out the window and see nothing but ghosts.

That was the funny thing about the stars, Javier thought idly, the button to his pants pulled through its hole like he’d done it a million times before. The stars themselves are not there anymore. Not really. They shine, and move, and gleam against the ever-expanding darkness of the universe, but only their light ever stays.

Those stars, those bluish glimpses into the primordial cradle, haunt the sky that Javier begs answers from; but they’re spectres. Poltergeists. They’ve all exploded and expanded into dust- the light from their existence continues on, staying there for as long as time would allow.

Are you his spectre, too?

That ghost in the night of burning flames and fire- the warmth that calls his sailor’s soul home; the haunting figure of his dreams, the wisp that utters every promise he’s ever wanted to hear.

You say it sometimes. Those words you wait patiently for. You whisper them under your breathless sighs, quiet and ready and wanting- resigned. The light that flickers in the darkness, the bluish hue against the inky, hollow black.

Javier slides his feet into his shoes, the laces left untied. He smiles morosely, all too aware of how silent his movements are, how practiced they seem. He feels meek enough to try not to wake you; embarrassed enough to hide from you how he couldn’t stay.

A foot forward, and he wonders how much longer he can keep this up.

Another and he wonders just how much more of your time you’ll spare him.

Again- oh, his bright blue star, his beacon home, how could he try to give you what he knows he can’t?

Javier reaches the door. He doesn’t look back- he can’t, look back. Any semblance of control he ever had would break down there and then, and all of this would be over.

But he loves you too much. He loves you to the realization that he could not possibly be the one for you. Too broken. Too hollow. A sailor with no star chart to guide him at all.

The door slides open with a shudder, accompanying the silence Javier carried with him. He pauses, briefly, to remember the warmth you brought him; it was all that he’ll have for now.