Andrew simply hummed at Neil’s response, feeling G R O U N D E D && a тнoυѕand мιleѕ away from this place all at once. He brings his hand up to take another pull, noticing the slight tremor in his fingers. Bad night. B A D N I G H T. ＢＡＤ ＮＩＧＨＴ.
He sucks in as much smoke as his lungs can handle, but the burn is long gone. He’s gotten too USED to this. The only thing left in his mouth is the dull, barely present bitter taste of a burnt-out flame. Two more drags is enough to start unwinding Andrew to his
state, but he can still feel his nerves fraying. He’s getting there. Slowly. God, this is so much harder without his ᵖᶤˡˡˢ. Control isn’t something that he thinks he can become accustomed to.
❝ Nobody else has as many reasons as I do, ❞ Andrew mused, turning to blow smoke in Neil’s face. He follows his gaze to the night sky, flicking stray αѕн from the end of his cigarette. The light pollution was too thick && too abundant to make out much of anything, but Andrew was able to pick out a few F A M I L I A R constellations.
{ 1. Ursa major, 2. Ursa minor, 3. Leo, 4. Cancer. }
1. He distantly remembers being a child && picking out these same stars on his old rooftop. He absently wonders what it would be like to turn back into that
with the light in his eyes that could outshine even the brightest of those stars.
2. Behind the haze of a cocktail of drugs, he can still sharply call to mind the nights spent in the hospital. By then, the light had fully died out in Andrew’s eyes. Nothing but a thick darkness had been present during these days. Years of being forced to grow up early had ripped him open && cleaned him out entirely. He can still R E M E M B E R. He can still recall Proust’s camera in plain view as unwanted hands searched over his restrained && trembling body. Teeth on scars && blood-red bruises bit into his arms– hands cutting off ＢＲＥＡＴＨ when his screams got to be too loud. Knives digging into flesh. All through the violation, all through the psychical torment, Andrew’s only sense of relief was when he was able to turn his head to it all && catch pieces of the night sky through the gated windows.
3. He recollects a memory from all those nights ago. The riot. The elbow to his eye && blood ᶠˡᵒᵒᵈᶤᶰᵍ his vision. The knife he took to a stranger’s arm. The all encompassing furry && desperation that took over his being as he realised the one man he was supposed to keep an eye on had ｖａｎｉｓｈｅｄ. He remembers looking up at the sky that night as he was being pulled towards the ambulance, praying to find answers in the stars that he knew so well.
4. He recalls hands grabbing at his hair, pulling him down, down, ｄｏｗｎ. He remembers looking up && finding the twins– Gemini– && its neighbor, Cancer, shining brilliantly above his head as the boy sitting next to him gave ground && took him apart piece by piece in the only way he knew how.
Both of these things– the stars && their rooftop– were enough to finally let him unwind. Both of these things would always be eternal && unchanging for Andrew. && that was enough for him right now. He craved ＳＴＡＢＩＬＩＴＹ.
{ Orion, Lupus, Aquarius, Draco – }
❝ I’ve always found it strange, ❞ He noted, cocking his head to the side as he stared up. ❝ How stars are M O R T A L like us. ❞ He took another pull, starting to drag his eyes back over to Neil. ❝ Makes you wonder how much we have in common with them. ❞
he can’t help the lazy curl of lips upon hearing andrew’s words , eyes closing when smoke is blown towards him. HATRED had a lot of meanings here , on this roof. neil did not mind it. he accepted it.
he’s a boy made of A I R . he feels like the smoke he exhales and he wishes he could fly a w a y like it. bones would be weightless , he’d defy gravity -------------- freedom would no longer be a weird concept. but gasoline is meant to burn and his lungs are made of c o a l . he would burn down sky cities with all these sparks in his body. the cigarette in his hand is grounding.
neil’s eyes follow andrew’s gaze. they’re sitting on top of the world , so close to this kingdom unknown to man. ( o h , the sky , neil remembers wishing he could s l e e p on its clouds , tame the thunderbolts , become KING of the sky. such naivety is gone now , for he knows the sky was not made for people like h i m . walking disasters have to parade on earth , not the safety of blue and purple empire. ) his mother’s voice is a silent whisper in his head : stop dreaming. stop dreaming stop stop stop------ he stopped. this thread that he’s clinging so greedily to is breaking. he’s human.
he takes one long drag from the cigarette , watching it burn away. often he’d identify with this senseless death , aware of the world burning him a w a y. such thoughts have always been pushed aside. he couldn’t allow himself the comfort of being in the center of himself and f e e l .
❝ ---- stars die slower than us. ❞ voice comes out ragged and he has to cough it away , flicking ash to the ground. it’s true , they’re mortal , but humans will be h u m a n s. they’ll die faster. ❝ and their deaths happen n a t u r a l l y . we could die anytime now. ❞ perhaps it’s this constant life and death situation that keeps them going. what are they trying to prove ? for w h a t ?
neil notices changes. he can tell andrew’s mind is busy with something greater than the philosophy of stars. kingdoms are grand places but andrew’s thoughts could form the most EERIE of them. a haunted forest , neil thought , an abandoned house on a hill standing still in times of disaster.
but all of this meant nothing.
they both were nothing and wanted all of this void.
the night breeze settles in , bringing cold air. it sends shivers down his spine , runs through a u b u r n hair. he does not mind it. it’s one of the few things he does not mind. hand is brought absentmindedly to his face , where bruises used to be. they're slowly fading and leaving behind ghosts ---- except for one: the cursed tattoo. the thought of it makes his stomach coil , but he resumes to wiping is nose with the back of his hand.
❝ kevin would go mad if we caught a cold. ❞ the thought is amusing.
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