#vaniceto

Stars covered every inch of the sky and the North Star lost to the sea of its milky white. A full moon tonight. The clock strikes 12.

5 hours till the next sunrise.

Time ticked and marched forward like her heart. Vanilla turned towards the desk. The cup half empty. The crackers were reduced to crumbs. Her scent lingered in the air—metallic and sea salt. No need to wait. The sun will rise again for a new day. It will greet her with warmth and gentleness just as always.

Footsteps echoed at a distance. Heavy and sure. Vanilla stood up from her seat and went outside. The moonlight cascaded over the figure who walked near the shore. Blue hair, black coat and eyes red like crimson—the sun is here, her sun.

“Hey,” Ceto stopped in front of her. Stiffly, hands that couldn't sit still. A comb through her hair, a gentle scratch on her bandages, or fiddling with the hem of her coat's sleeves.

“You’re early…” Vanilla reached out, right hand hovering just above Ceto’s chest. The lightkeeper stepped closer.

Warm, beating and true.

“I am.” Ceto placed her hand atop of Vanilla’s. “Chief told me I should take a break, can you believe her?”

“I do…”

Ceto scoffed. “It was rhetorical.”

The mechanic’s hand—fingertips traced over a scar. A new scab, still fresh. “You’re… hurt?”

“Just a small incident. No need to fret over it.”

Vanilla hummed in thought but tugged Ceto back to the light house, back to their home. However, home is wherever her sun is. This place is only temporary and time will erode it like everything else. But Ceto is true; a brief presence that became permanent.

“Sit…”

Ceto sat down near the windowsill. Vanilla gathered up the medical supplies, old and new but still usable.

“How much… does it hurt?” She carefully removed the bandages. Dispose it all beside her, and then unwind the new ones.

Ceto huffed, and looked away with a frown. “It's the same. I'm still alive, aren't I?”

“But… your injury—”

“Look at me.” Ceto pointed at her scars. “I’ll be fine, I survived.”

Vanilla stilled for a moment. Her gaze settled over the years-old injury that littered Ceto’s skin. Some were deep and jagged, then others were shallow and a clean cut. Every wound had a story to tell like the new one across Ceto’s arm up to her shoulder. She resumed cleaning the wound first, then bandaged it with much care and attention. Ceto pursed her lips together, and tensed at the sting of the alcohol or was it because of Vanilla’s lingering touch?

“Please… value your life… a little more…” Vanilla finished patching her up, but her hand stayed over the wounded area. “I’d be lonely… without you… here…”

Why must her sun bleed so much? Why must her sun go through so much pain and misery? She glared at the rancor blade. Its voice already silent and controlled like Chief said, but influence never went away with just a snap. It could still be there waiting for the right moment to strike.

Vanilla tilted Ceto’s chin to face her. A tentative small kiss just at the edge of her lips. A small reassurance that someone cared for her, not just Chief or any sinner who merely values her for her skills and for what she could offer–someone who loves her just the way she is.

All broken and wounded parts just like her.

“You have other people, I’m not the only one in your life.” Ceto remarked but leaned closer to Vanilla for more. Head on her shoulder. ”They’ll keep you company more than me.”

“But.. I want you… only you..”

Silence. Nothing but the crash of the ocean wave as their sound and their mingling breaths together as one. Vanilla held her close, kissed the top of her head and guided the lightkeeper to their bed. A simple mattress on the floor, thin sheets and blankets, but the cold was a friend to them. They have each other to keep themselves warm. The first to lay down was Ceto, her eyes still were glassy but never once she looked away from Vanilla. Arms spread wide to welcome her as the immortal sinner lay atop of her. Ear on her chest—hear the gentle beat of her heart; a proof that her sun is truly here.

“Do you really mean that?” Ceto asked in a quiet voice, almost fragile and bewildered.

“Why… would.. I lie?” She looked at her, eyes filled with honesty. “I like… love… your presence…”

Leaning close, closer until their nose brushed against each other, closer until their lips finally meet. Awkward, slow and sloppy, but she neither cared of it—both of them were. Hands intertwined together, one feared this would be their last, and the other hopeful this connection would be the anchor through the storm. Breathless sighs, a mumble of soft praises and a quiet ask for more.

Trace each scar with her fingertips, her lips, her tongue—Ceto’s heart spiked, thrummed louder in Vanilla’s ear. What an interesting reaction. In the dim light, her sun glowed a deeper shade of red, mouth agape, both of them couldn't believe it.

“Too much?” Vanilla asked, rising up to meet her gaze.

Ceto gulped, shooked her head. Words stuck at the back of her throat. Eyes blinking rapidly like her breath. “Just new, I suppose…”

“Do you want… to continue?” She tucked a stray hair away. The once blazing anger became warmer on her touch. “I can… wait…”

“Yeah, maybe next time, if it's alright.”

“Of course…” A chaste kiss just at the top of Ceto’s head. “I will… always… wait…”

And so, the night come to a quiet close. Ceto lie awake for who knows how long, count until she fall asleep—she never make it past a hundred ever since Vanilla showed up. While for the Immortal sinner, ever a fortress and still like a machine waiting for an order held Ceto as if her life depends on it; maybe it was.

The sun will rise again for tomorrow, and her sun already safe in her arms.