Chapter Text

I.

He was a teenager when he lost it.

His heart always was in the bad habit of flying around, jumping on people’s shoulders when he walked, hiding under the bed when his mom got angry at him, shying away in shame when he made an embarrassment out of himself. 

The sentence “no control over his heart” applied to him way too literally.

So when he walked into math tutoring that Friday; it flew over to another boy, like a happy puppy over-excitedly greeting any stranger, a little ball of light, smaller than a fingernail, barely visible in the well-lit classroom.

Eddy swore and ran after it, trying to grab it and stuff it back in his pocket, before anybody noticed the bright sphere.

“Come back here you little shit.”

He almost had it, hand reaching out, fingers grazing it.

But then the boy turned toward him, raising his eyebrow, and Eddy’s heart did a little turn; taunting him before delving in the teenager’s shirt.

“Hi?”

He shouldn’t be intimidating, with his braces, ugly glasses, mushroom haircut and scrawny body. But his tone of voice was so self-assured, his dark eyes boring into him without shyness that Eddy found himself flustered.

“Oh. Huh, hi. Can I-” how could he save the situation without betraying himself? “Can I sit here?” he pointed to the chair on the guy’s right.

“Yeah, sure, I don’t own the seat, dude.”

He awkwardly chuckled and sat, eyeing the way his heart was playing in the boy’s right sleeve.

“I, huh- I forgot my pen, could I borrow one- just for today?”

The guy raised his eyebrows higher and shook his head with a disbelieving smile.

“Seriously? Who forgets to bring a pen to school?”

“I have a terrible memory,” he tried to defend himself, a tiny bit upset to be called out like that. “It doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”

He hadn’t even forgotten it today - he had made it up so the boy would extend his arm toward him, the one where his heart was still hiding and maybe he could use the opportunity to snatch it back - but that didn’t mean it never happened.

“Chill, I never said you were. Here, don’t forget to give it back later or my mum will kill me.”

And he handed him a blue ballpoint.

With his left hand.

Eddy bit his lip to keep himself from swearing, forcing out a ‘Thanks’ instead. 

“I’m Brett, by the way,” the other gave him a smile. 

“Eddy,” he replied distractedly, looking at the ball of light nestled on the boy’s right wrist.

Maybe if he found a pretext to grab his wrist, he could take his heart back before the other teenager noticed it.

“Why are you looking at my hand? Do I still have rosin on it?” Brett raised his fingers in front of his face, examining them with a frown.

The movement startled Eddy’s heart, making it delve deeper into the shirt, until he could see it faintly glow around the crook of Brett’s elbow. 

Damn. Unless he shoved his hand in the boy’s sleeve, there was no way to take it back now.

“You play violin?” he asked, half because he wanted to distract Brett from the way the ball of light must be tickling his skin, half out of genuine interest.

It would be nice to know he wasn’t the only kid his age nerding about classical music.

“Yeah,” Brett started smiling, and he suddenly seemed way nicer than before. 

“Ah, me too!”

“Asians parents, hey.”

*

Brett waved at him.

“See you next week, I suppose.”

“See you next week!” Eddy answered with maybe too much enthusiasm, still feeling warm from the interaction. 

He didn’t have a lot of friends, and Brett’s free laughter and funny side comments had been, sadly, the highlight of his week. 

He still had a smile on his face as he waited for his mum in the parking lot.

Then, he blanched.

He had been so distracted by the conversation, he had forgotten his original goal for sitting beside Brett.

And now the other boy had left with Eddy’s heart still securely nestled in his shirt.

*

See, there was this secret in the Chen family; they were immortal.

Not like the elves in Lord of the Rings, no. They had a relatively average lifespan for magical beings, but as long as their hearts were secure, they couldn’t be killed. Eddy had already fallen off the roof and had survived without a scratch, his mother had gotten hit by a car and had just grumbled about the spilled groceries, the lid of the piano had fallen on his sister’s fingers and she had jumped in surprise but when she lifted it, not even a bruise could be seen on her hands. 

The only thing they had to take care of was their essence; this tiny ball of light following them around, pulsing with everything they were, had been and would be. Their heart. 

It seemed a relatively easy task: Just take care of your heart and you’ll be fine.

But Eddy’s heart had always been a source of trouble. Running off without his consent, getting mixed up in bad situations, getting attached to random strangers or playing hide and seek. Just all around being a pain. 

He was the laughing stock of his family. Really, who had to constantly run after their own heart to make sure it didn’t mess around? And who then forgot about said heart until it had left with a stranger he only knew the first name of?

Belle was the first one to notice something was amiss this evening.

“Eddy, where’s your heart?” she asked, her own very obediently floating above her shoulder - Eddy glared at it with envy.

“I lost it,” he mumbled.

“You what?”

“I lost it,” he repeated, blushing harder. “It got lost in someone’s sleeve and I couldn’t get it back. It didn’t want to come back with me.”

And Belle, being the supportive sister she was, burst out laughing and ran down the stairs.

“Mum! Mum! You won’t believe this!”

*

He had been yelled at so thoroughly about his carelessness Belle even ended up feeling bad about selling him out and sneaked half of her dessert toward him in a silent apology he had been too petty to accept.

“You better get it back fast,” his mum scolded, dropping him at his orchestra rehearsal the next day.

He nodded meekly, not bothering to explain that he would only see Brett again next Friday. He would just pretend to have it back somewhere around the beginning of the week so his mother would stop worrying. Hopefully Belle could cover for him and have her own heart float around him for a bit to trick his parents until he found it for real.

He then stepped in, insides churning.

Everybody looked so old - some even had beards. He bit his lips, hands shaking around his violin case, feeling social anxiety claim his breathing.

“Oh! You’re the guy from math tutoring!” someone exclaimed.

He turned his head toward the chairs facing the stage and gaped, not believing his luck.

It was him!

The boy who had left with his heart!

He was just sitting there, next to his dad, violin case on his laps, looking as ecstatic as Eddy.

He wouldn’t even have to lie to his mum, he thought, smiling wider when he noticed the ball of light floating behind Brett’s ear. 

There was a skip in his steps as he half ran toward him.

“Oh, you already know someone, good,” Brett’s dad smiled. “I’ll leave you two then, have a nice rehearsal.”

Eddy tried his best to answer politely, but his gaze kept being snatched by the way his heart was jumping up and down above the other boy’s head.

“You kept my pen,” Brett said the second his father was out of earshot.

“Well you kept my-” he stopped himself.

“Your?”

“Forget it.”

“You’re weird, dude.”

It hit harder than expected. The light of his heart dimmed for a second, before slowly trekking back to Eddy. And despite the hurt, he was relieved it was coming back to him on its own. 

“Don’t take it the wrong way, hey. I’m having fun talking with you, it’s a nice kind of weird.”

There was a hint of panic in Brett’s tone. Eddy got it; they were the only ones of their age here, it would be awkward to be on bad terms in a sea of young adults. Brett was making sure he wouldn’t be on his own because the only other kid in the orchestra thought he was an asshole.

His heart didn’t get the memo though, happily getting fooled and dancing back to Brett, grazing against his neck as it hid in the collar of his shirt. 

“You idiot!” Eddy gawked, stumped by how stupid his heart was being.

“What?” Brett widened his eyes and raised his hand to scratch his neck, probably feeling the tickling sensation of the light ball against his skin. Eddy’s heart narrowly avoided getting smashed by twirling back to Brett’s hair. 

“Nothing, sorry. I was talking to myself, saying I was an idiot for, huh- forgetting to give you back your pen.”

“Oh, that,” Brett laughed, “it’s no worry, dude, I was just teasing. Give it back when you can.”

“Sure…”

“You said I had something of yours too?”

“No- no, it’s okay,” Eddy gave up, glancing wearily at how happy his heart was playing with the black strands of hair, not minding him for one bit.

If this didn’t result in his instant death, he would have killed that insolent little shit on the spot.

*

He never got it back, in the end. 

He tried everything; randomly grabbing Brett’s hand when his heart was playing around his fingers, ruffling his hair to try to catch it when it was resting there, borrowing Brett’s shirt to trick it, whispering veiled menace under his breath when Brett was wearing earphones to scare it into coming back.

Brett had seemed a bit put off by the touchiness at first, but had shrugged it off, probably thinking this was just how Eddy was.

The most embarrassing of it all had been when his mother had decided to take things into her own hands and had invited Brett for dinner. Even his heart’s light had dimmed in shame when she kept slapping Brett’s shoulder, saying there was a mosquito. Or when she spilled the soup on him after the heart hid in his collar, prompting him to go change into a clean shirt of Eddy.

He had been so embarrassed he had never invited Brett to his home once for the year that had followed.

He had thought, for sure, he would get it back, when he stayed over to sleep at Brett’s parents. They had installed a second mattress for him beside their son’s bed, and he had planned on waiting for Brett to fall asleep to grab the light ball taunting him from under the covers. He was sure, at this point, this had become a game of who would cave first between himself and his heart. 

He had never managed to carry through his plan, because they had talked through the night, and neither of them had gotten any sleep.

By the end of high school, Eddy declared it a lost cause, and just decided to stick around Brett until his heart got tired of this.

*

He followed him everywhere.

To busk on the streets.

To music university.

To clubs he didn’t care to go to. 

To music camp.

To the beginning of TwoSet.

At one point, he started to forget why he was chasing after Brett.

Until he almost died.

*

He should have seen it coming, but Brett had always unknowingly taken such good care of his heart, Eddy had ceased to worry.

Then it happened. 

Uni was stressful and they practiced too much, Eddy would have been afraid of injuring himself from all the practice if he wasn’t immortal.

The practice room reeked, night had fallen already; they were both tired and irritated and Brett still couldn’t nail down that fast passage in the Ysaÿe 6, getting more and more frustrated each time he messed up.

“Your A was a bit flat on that last run,”Eddy mumbled, focused on experimenting with different fingerings to see which one was more comfortable. 

“I know!” Brett snapped. “I don’t need you to explain in excruciating detail every single thing I mess up, Mr. Perfect Pitch!”

Eddy frowned, feeling he didn’t deserve to take the brunt of Brett’s anger.

“Hey, don’t come at me, you were the one asking for peer review. If you’re gonna be like that, I’m gonna leave you to suck on your own.”

This probably wasn’t very mature of him, but he was too tired to care. He snapped his case close around his violin and got ready to go back to his dorm. 

But as usual, his heart was being a sensitive idiot; probably feeling his best friend’s distress, it tried to rub against Brett, running its light tendrils against his arm, so visible in the darkness of the room.

Eddy’s breath got stuck in his lungs. Brett would just have to look down to see it.

But he didn’t, anger in his eyes as he assessed his best friend getting out of the room.

“Yeah, good idea, just run away Eddy, not like you need the practice, huh,” he snarled, shaking his arm to get rid of the tickling sensation of the heart trying to sooth him. 

And then he slapped his hand over it.

It was too fast for either Eddy or his heart to have the time to react to it. 

Pain seized him, one he had never known, like his whole being was being flattened by a steamroller, like every bone in his body broke at the same time. 

He couldn’t even scream, lungs crushed, vocal chords squashed.

The last thing he saw was his heart - a dim yellow - fall on the floor and Brett’s panicked face.

This was also the first thing he saw when he woke up in the hospital. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” his best friend kept crying above his bed.

“This isn’t your fault,” Eddy lied. And for once his heart agreed with him, shining weakly from the folds of Brett’s jacket.

*

He got his heart back at one point. When Brett left for the Sydney Symphony Orchestra.

Eddy didn’t manage to follow.

He had tried, but it had taken too long for his heart to get better, almost a year before it had gotten back its full shine and form - almost a year before Eddy was out of the wheelchair and playing again. He understood now, why his mum had been so afraid, when he was thirteen and his heart was evading him. This was the risk. An irritated tap away from death. 

And now he had to watch his friend fly away. He had a crazy moment, saying goodbye at the airport, wondering if the ball of light would still follow Brett into the plane.

But no.

It flew around in frenzied movements, attracting the looks of a few bystanders wondering if their eyes were playing tricks on them, going back and forth between Eddy and the gate Brett had disappeared behind. Not understanding why Eddy was allowing so much distance. Ultimately it stayed with Eddy. Hiding in his pocket, tame like it never had been.

It had been almost ten years since his heart had first left him to haunt this boy with glasses and a mushroom cut sitting on the left side of a tutoring classroom. At first out of provocation and rebellion, then out of habit and care.

And now he had gotten it back.

He felt ironically empty now that his heart was where it belonged. He had spent so long chasing it, planning all kinds of crazy moves to take it back. His whole relationship with Brett was built on him running after his heart. 

It was just- there.

His mother cried of joy, his father let out a relieved sigh, even his sister seemed happy for him. He understood, they had all been so worried after the incident, they wanted his heart to be in a place it wouldn’t risk getting hurt again.

But every morning when he woke up and saw the bright sphere gently resting on the pillow beside him, his chest ached, feeling empty when it should have been full.

*

He got used to it again, after some time. But some part of him stayed restless.

So when, in the middle of a party, his heart started getting wild again - acting drunker than its owner - and started playing in the long, black hair of an old acquaintance from uni, he felt almost relieved when his heart refused to follow him home, fluttering in the gentle breath of the flautist.

Like this was how things were supposed to be.

Like he could pretend, if he didn’t see it in the morning, that it was still somehow annoying Brett, like it had been doing those past ten years.

But then he remembered that feeling. Crunched under his best friend’s palm in a moment of anger, broken to bits and pieces. 

So before leaving he fought back his shyness.

“You have something in your hair,” he told her with a smile he hoped was charming.

And he plucked away the heart hiding there, just like that. So easy. Keeping it with him until he trusted her enough to walk around with it.

*

It was never the same. Sometimes his heart hopped on Toni’s shoulder when she wasn’t looking, or snuggled against her when they slept, but it never stayed. He didn’t need to elaborate schemes or chase after it. It would always come back, like it had before he met Brett.

*

“Hey, bro!”

“Hey,” Eddy melted in his friend’s embrace, exhausted beyond words.

Brett chuckled and patted his back.

“Go rest, we’ll film later.”

“I’d love to but I don’t really have the time, we should film right now. I have to meet up with Toni after.”

“Oh, she’s here? You should have invited her in.”

“Nah, we booked a hotel room, she’s checking in and practicing there because she didn’t want to bother us.”

And babysitting my heart, he didn’t say. Toni had no idea it had stayed with her, his heart was more careful around her, hiding more, but at least the annoying light ball wouldn’t pester them while they filmed.

He dragged himself out of his best friend’s arms and trudged toward the living room, enjoying the way the Opera House reflected its light on the water. As tiring as it was to make the back and forth, coming to Brett’s place in Sydney was always worth it.

He saw the violin resting on the couch and snorted.

“Bro, put that back in your case, imagine you sit on- Brett?”

“Huh?”

His best friend’s eyes snapped back to his face, looking a bit lost.

“What’s going on?” Eddy pressed.

“I- nothing. It’s nothing. You’re right, I’ll put the violin away before it gets hurt.”

He kept glancing in the vicinity of Eddy, but not directly at him.

“Okay… I need to take a piss and have some coffee, then we can film those ideas we talked about.”

“Sure!” Brett forced a smile.

It was odd to see him so out of sorts. But Eddy shrugged it off, maybe he was just tired. He would ask about it later, if Brett was still weird the next day.

Brett kept acting strange, but then Eddy was busy and forgot to ask.

*

His heart was like a small, golden puppy. Except the only person it was faithful to was Brett.

Eddy swore under his breath as it circled around his best friend’s hand, grazing around his knuckles, not minding that it could be seen or felt. 

It had been so long, he had forgotten how it was when Brett was constantly around.

They had a Kickstarter campaign to organize and a life together to plan, but he was back to being thirteen - trying to catch the light ball flying outside of his reach while nodding at everything Brett said.

He had half a mind to be pissed that the thing still hadn’t gotten over its weird infatuation for his best friend, but at least Brett was back in his life - for real - so he guessed he would just enjoy being happy and worry about his heart later. 

*

Eddy figured it out, somewhere between their second world tour and quarantine.

It had been hidden in details, and they all seemed splayed out before him now. It was in the way he liked seeing his heart hiding in his best friend’s hair, the way he felt warmer when it was resting in the hollow of his best friend’s throat, the way he just couldn’t stop smiling. 

In the way he looked at Brett just for the sake of looking at Brett, sometimes, ignoring his surroundings, maybe as oblivious as his heart.

In the way he felt safe when he couldn’t see the light ball around, knowing it was on a bubble tea run with Brett, a few streets away.

So he understood the reason it latched on to his best friend the second he was in his life again. 

It wasn’t out of a desire to annoy Eddy or to be wild.

Just out of love.

Eddy didn’t even try to stop it.

*

Since they had moved in together in Singapore, there was this thing that kept happening, where Eddy wasn’t sure if his eyes were following his heart, or his heart was following his eyes. 

He could feel his gaze wandering on his best friend’s neck, staying stuck in the mole nestled there, at the edge of his collar. Sharp dot against his pale skin.

He wanted to bite it.

The thought was barely there that his heart - teasing little shit - instantly sneaked away from Brett’s pocket to rub itself all over the mole. See, I can do that because I’m not afraid like you are - it seemed to tell. 

Sometimes it was the other way around. He would notice the glint from the corner of his eye, spy on the way the light ball jumped over Brett’s knuckles when he was playing the violin, eyes closed. And then he couldn’t stop staring, tracking the way it lit his best friend’s elegant fingers, thin bones and strong articulations, perfect nails…

“Why are you looking at my hand? Do I still have rosin on it?” Brett’s voice snapped him from his reveries.

The words took him fifteen years ago and he chuckled. He saw the moment it dawned on Brett; when his expression went from confused amusement to realization.

Then they burst out laughing.

“I remember saying that!” Brett grinned. “That was so long ago, damn, I can’t believe you remember!” 

“It was a pretty significant meeting,” Eddy snorted.

“I don’t think you ever gave me back that pen.”

Well you never gave me back my heart.

“Trust you to be that petty over a pen you would ask for it fifteen years later,” he uttered instead.

“I’m not asking, hey.”

“True,” he smiled. “I lost it eons ago anyway.”

They stared at each other for a while, and Eddy could feel his grin hurting his cheeks, before Brett scratched his stubble and avoided his gaze. He fidgeted with his violin, ended up lowering it on the table, picked it up again and put it in its case.

Eddy observed the fretting with a growing worry. It was never good when Brett was nervous.

“You know I’m not crazy, right?”

“What the fuck is that question?”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he took a deep breath, still not meeting Eddy’s eyes. “I, huh- I’ve got something to tell you. I should have told you before, but I thought I was crazy at first, and then I got scared you would think I was crazy.”

“Bro,” Eddy grabbed him by the shoulders, seeing the way his heart was flashing in distress at the back of Brett’s head. “What’s going on?”

Brett gnawed at his lower lip before turning on his heels, hands reaching with all the gentleness he could muster, cradling the little ball of light in his palms.

“Can you see this?”

Chapter Text

II.

You see, Brett had a secret.

When he was fourteen, two very important things happened to him.

The first one was that he met his best friend.

The second, he started being haunted by a spirit.

*

“So you are real,” he whispered in awe at the fragile-looking sphere resting in his hand.

He had seen it before, in the corner of his vision - a flash, an illusion, a trick of the light. After months of it, he even asked his parents to get his eyes checked.

Apart from an ever-growing myopia, there was nothing wrong with his sight.

It had kept bugging him but his very strange new best friend and his even stranger family occupied his thoughts enough he never really pondered on it, too busy practicing, studying, and dealing with Eddy for anything else - especially flashes of light and random tickles at his skin. 

Eddy was… Unlike anybody he had ever met, to put it nicely. He had this expression like he would burst into tears if anyone said something even remotely mean to him; like he would rather bury himself in a hole than talk with strangers. But then he would grab Brett’s hand out of nowhere, hug him and ruffle his hair, and being so forward in his affections Brett almost had whiplash.

Especially lately. When every one of those unprompted physical contacts left him weird and tingly. When he stopped himself from breathing in the middle of a hug, hoping the lack of oxygen would make his heart slow down - and when it didn’t, he would push back Eddy with a hand on his face, fake annoyance painted on his features. 

It had taken almost three full years for the first actual contact.

He was seventeen, sitting in his bed, tearing at his hair.

“Fuck,” he kept swearing. “Fuck.”

Because he only now understood why he had been so obsessed with his best friend. Why his lips and hands starred in his wet dreams. Why every time his eyes caught the music sheet of a duet he was already smiling.

“I’m in love with Eddy,” he whispered, so softly he barely heard himself, heart beating out of his chest.

He felt like crying.

And then something grazed his arm and he yelped, ready to bat away whatever insect had crawled up in his bed.

It was a light.

A tiny little ball of light that felt strangely soft and perfectly warm.

He knew what it was.

He knew it was the one that hadn’t stopped following him since he was fourteen.

And for one reason or another, it had stopped hiding.

*

He thought he was crazy at first, that his mind had conjured the whole thing to distract him from the fact that he had fallen for his best friend.

“What even are you?” he asked, scrolling his eighth Wikipedia article on mythology when he was supposed to study for his end of year tests. Today it was Japanese folklore - he already went through Chinese, Australian, Indian and European. “Balls of lights are way too popular, you could be so many things…”

He sighed and rubbed at his eyes, nudging the little ball with his finger.

“If you’re that intent on following me, I should probably give you a name. You’ve been with me for what, four years now? I warn you though; I suck at names. What do you think of Spirit Ball? Nah, it sounds like an attack in an anime. Huh- Little Light? Fuck, I have zero imagination. Lighty. Alright, let’s go with Lighty.”

He closed the Wikipedia page - it wasn’t really helping - and fell back in his chair, extended his fingers, and snorted when the ball of light played with his knuckles.

“You could even not be real for all I know, Lighty.”

It started moving up and down furiously then as if outraged by the statement. Brett laughed and raised his hands in surrender.

“Alright, alright, don’t get mad, hey. I take it back.”

“Who are you talking to?” his little brother narrowed his eyes at him, his head popping from the door.

“Get out of my room, I’m studying,” he lied.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Lighty startle and hide near his lap. 

“So you were talking to yourself.”

“I was- on the phone.”

“With your girlfriend?”

“For fuck’s sake leave me alone.”

“Mum! Brett just swore at me!” his brother yelled toward the stairs.

Brett inhaled and closed his eyes.

God, he wanted to see Eddy.

He felt Lighty nudge his fingers under his desk and he smiled.

*

It bothered him, keeping this from Eddy. 

They talked about everything, always - music, grades, family, shortcomings, aspirations.

There were only those two things he kept close to his heart - his feelings and the spirit haunting him.

He had considered sharing them but everytime he gathered the nerves, his tongue became lead in his mouth, his heart beat in his throat and he couldn’t.

Eddy got that something was wrong, at one point - guided by half started confessions and Brett’s poor acting skills - fucking smart best friend.

“You don’t have to tell me everything,” he rolled his eyes, as they were sipping their one-liter bubble tea from the shop across the con. “Don’t force yourself to open up, everyone has the right to their secrets.”

“Yeah? Anything to hide, Eddy?” Brett teased, trying to divert the attention from him.

His best friend just snorted and glanced in the direction of Brett’s neck where Lighty was huddled. For one crazy second, he thought Eddy could see it, but then his gaze went past it and caught Brett’s, wiggling his eyebrow.

“Depends how open you are to hear about my kinks.”

“Gross.”

*

When Brett was twenty-one, he had gotten the biggest fright of his entire life.

His best friend was in a hospital bed, right after they argued, and his spirit friend was dying out, light dimming every passing second.

Both of them had been with him for seven years now, and he was scared to death he was going to lose them at the same time.

The hospital room was silent, save for his own breathing, and the monitor beeping. He couldn’t remember how long he had been here for; between the ambulance, and the waiting, and the halls full of worried people, then a doctor finally allowing him access to Eddy’s bedside. The battery of his phone had died, but the clock on the wall told him it was four in the morning.

Guilt was churning inside of him, pulling at his guts, clawing at his skin.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against Eddy’s hand. “I’m sorry,” he repeated to Lighty, trying to keep it warm in the folds of his jacket.

Then Eddy opened his eyes.

“It’s not your fault,” he mumbled, rendered barely coherent by the drugs in his system.

Brett knew it was a lie, but he was so relieved to hear him speak he could have kissed him. 

“I love you,” he whispered when Eddy fell back into slumber.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Lighty glow stronger.

*

He had tried to nurse them both back to health then. It has been easier with Eddy. He had to joke around, be there, bring him bubble tea, and wait for his body to heal.

But Lighty?

How do you help a spirit to heal?

So he just tried to keep it warm, to touch it gently, to nest it in the crook of his neck, where he knew it had liked to take a nap before, so it could rest. He would talk to it in the middle of the night when nobody was around, whispering every secret and word of comfort but inevitably ended up ranting about Eddy.

He must have been doing something right because as the months passed, the little ball of brightness shone harder. Until it was back to its annoying puppy-life self, he felt like grinning every second of the day, because not only did the spirit heal, Eddy got out of his wheelchair and picked up the violin again.

They would all be okay, he convinced himself.

*

He had had his doubts for a while, but it became glaringly obvious when he moved to Sydney.

Alone.

“At least I’ll get over him,” he talked himself into believing it, moving furniture inside his new apartment. “If I don’t see him every day, it’ll get better.”

But as he turned off the light and stared at the spot where there was usually a bright glow around his hand, he felt doubly lonely. Lighty didn’t take the plane with him, leaving him on his own for the first time in ten years.

The string of bodies that followed in his bed didn’t make the emptiness any easier.

It had only been after Eddy’s first visit that he couldn’t ignore it anymore.

He had thought maybe Lighty was a spirit anchored in Brisbane, for one reason or another, or that it was done with him, not forgiving him for that one slap that almost killed it. 

But then Eddy came, all smiles and noise and idiocy. 

And Lighty was trailing behind.

“Nice to see you,” he nudged his old spirit friend as he made coffee in the morning, Eddy still snoring on the second bed of his room. He was unable to keep the smile off his face. “I actually missed you, you annoying ball of light.”

The little thing twirled and played with his hair, tickling his scalp in the process. 

He laughed and leaned on his kitchen counter.

“I take it you’re not mad at me.”

The first sip of coffee was too hot and he burnt his tongue, swearing softly.

“You’re linked with Eddy, somehow, aren’t you?” he probed. “You’re not a random spirit.”

Lighty stilled in his hair.

“There’s no way it’s a coincidence I both met you around the same time, that you both almost died at the same time, and now you both come to Sydney at the same time.”

There was no movement.

“Ignore me all you want, I know I’m right,” he rolled his eyes. “C’mon, let’s go wake Eddy up.”

*

He never figured exactly what was the link between Eddy and Lighty. His best friend always acted like he couldn’t see the ball of light floating around, so he didn’t know how to bring it up, or how crazy he would sound.

Hey, Eddy. I have been haunted by the same spirit for a decade now, it’s small and weirdly affectionate, I call it Lighty. I know you’ve never mentioned it, but would you happen to know anything about it?

That was a lie, he knew how crazy he would sound. The answer was very.

*

He could pinpoint the precise moment he had reached his breaking point.

It wasn’t when Eddy told him he was dating someone else.

It wasn’t when he stopped showing up as often as before.

It wasn’t when his texts became sparser and his calls even more.

It was when Eddy came in that one time, melting in his arms from fatigue, and behind him was nothing. No little ball of light. No wild spirit. 

When he kept looking around but couldn’t grab any strange glow hiding in clothes.

When he walked Eddy to his hotel and saw Toni getting out to greet them. Nestled in her hair was Lighty.

“I’m sorry, I have to practice,” he had shaken off the couple’s offer to have a drink with them, hoping he wasn’t acting too weird. 

He ignored the way Lighty twirled up from Toni’s head when it spotted him, the walk back to his place a blur. He needed time alone.

He still didn’t know what linked Eddy and Lighty, but something tore at his insides. The bitter aftertaste of being replaced poisoned his mouth. He knew it was significant, guts squeezing in the fear of losing them both.

*

He should have taken the time to think about it, probably. Quitting his job and his apartment for a wild dream of spreading classical music through the world should have been more of a dilemma. 

But as he was setting the camera on - Hi, guys, welcome to another episode of TwoSet Violin! We’ve got exciting news to share! TwoSet World Tour! - feeling Lighty tickle his ankle and sharing an excited grin with Eddy, he knew he had taken the right decision. 

*

He understood something, at one point. Gained a new confidence. A new kind of happiness.

It didn’t matter if Eddy dated other people, if Lighty took flight, sometimes, messing around with friends or strangers.

Because every time they fell back on their chair laughing, every time they glanced at each other over their violin, every time he fell asleep to Lighty’s gentle glow beside him, he knew he was special. That his fear of getting replaced had no reason to be.

Sure, he would probably never get to run his hands over his best friend’s body and absorb moans from his lips but he could live with that.

What they had was infinitely more unique than a few fantasies stolen in the night.

III.

“You call my heart Lighty?” Eddy’s mouth gaped in horror.

“Lighty is your heart?” Brett’s eyes widened.

“Remind me to never let you choose any children’s name,” Eddy’s nose frowned in distaste.

“I’ve slapped your heart...” Brett blanched. “Wait- what the fuck does that even mean?”

“I can’t believe you’ve known all this time about my heart,” his best friend kept muttering. “It would have saved me so much trouble.”

“Eddy! What the fuck does that mean?”

Lighty was still in his hands, buzzing excitedly, jumping from back and forth on the pads of his fingers. It felt like warm and dry kisses.

“I’m immortal,” his best friend winced.

“You almost died in uni.”

“I’m a very vulnerable immortal.”

“Well that makes total sense,” he deadpanned.

“Shut up, you called my heart Lighty.”

It took him three full seconds to realize he was smiling. And Eddy was smiling back. 

He felt like a smitten idiot.

They settled on the couch in the end, with an order of spicy chicken, two bubble teas, and a lot to share.

Brett hadn’t disclosed everything - of course. He had kept his longing under wraps, silencing anything related to the love he carried since he was seventeen. So he knew what it was to hide something, to warp the facts just enough to say without telling too much.

And there was something about Eddy’s tale that still felt like a secret. Like he wasn’t revealing everything.

*

“I’m an idiot,” he realised at three in the morning.

Lighty perked up from its spot beside his pillow as if prompting him to elaborate.

“I’m a fucking idiot,” he pushed back the covers. “You’re literally Eddy’s heart,” he cradled the ball of lights in his hands and walked toward the door, “and you’ve been following me around since forever for no apparent reason.” It only took him three steps to cross the hallway, standing outside the only other bedroom of their apartment. “He specifically told me it only happened with me.”

He was shaking his head. How blind could someone be, really?

“I’ve hurt you, I’ve hurt him, but you both forgave me. I’m the worst idiot.”

“Dude,” the groan came from Eddy’s room. “I can hear you talk to yourself, what the-”

Brett had barged in already, uncaring of how disgruntled his best friend looked; half sitting on his mattress, hair curling up in every direction and the crease of the pillow marked on his cheek, with only Lighty’s brightness to guide him through the dark.

“Stop using my heart as a lamp torch,” Eddy sighed with the expression of someone who had already given up.

“You love me.”

“What?”

“You love me,” Brett repeated, lava flowing inside his veins instead of blood.

Silence captured them for a few beats. A bar of suspension. Eddy’s breathing got louder, mouth opening and closing.

In his hands, Lighty became so hot he hissed, releasing it before it scalded his skin.

“You’re literally too much for my heart to handle,” Eddy chuckled drily, eyeing the way his heart was spinning around wildly. “I think it’s a pretty straight-forward answer.”

“I love you too,” Brett’s heart was in his throat, and he wanted to claw it out and give it, shove it in Eddy’s hands so he could get it. So it could scald his skin too, blind him, and never leave him alone. So Eddy would understand without words how much he loved. “Since- I don’t know. A long time. It feels like forever.”

His skin was buzzing, every cell awake, blood singing.

He reached for Eddy’s cheek and his hand was shaking, his best friend wasn’t moving, even his chest seemed stuck on the same inhale, only his eyes looking for something on his face, so much more intimidating than they had ever been. Reality felt ten times more frightening than any fantasy he had had of this moment.

Do it, Brett. Just do it.

So he kissed him.

His hands hadn’t stopped shaking, he gripped Eddy’s shirt in an attempt to hide it, forging onward, tasting the man below him. There were fingers in his hair then - nothing like the usual playful head pats - they carded through the strands with intent, bringing his head closer. Then there were teeth, nibbling at his bottom lip, at his jaw, at his ear, at his neck, focusing on a spot around his mole.

He realised he had closed his eyes when the room got too bright even through his eyelids.

“What the-” he rasped, only to cringe at how out of breath he sounded from a single kiss. 

Shame quickly forgotten when he saw the source of light; Eddy’s heart furiously spinning and burning, illuminating the bedroom like day had stepped into the night.

“Fuck, dude. Your heart’s like a tiny, angry sun,” he grinned. “Will it be like that every time I kiss you?”

Eddy had no way to hide his blush from the light his traitorous heart was radiating.

“I don’t know. In case you somehow missed it, this is the first time we kissed.”

“Yeah, time to change that.”

They soon discovered they had to invest in thicker blinds.

*

It was hard for Eddy to tell if he had found his heart again. 

More often than not, it was in the same room as he was - just how close depended on the situation.

It obeyed a bit better, had stopped getting lost in random places. 

On the other hand, he knew if he ever were to give it an order, and Brett was to say the opposite, the little shit wouldn’t even pretend to listen to him. 

He wasn’t worried though, Brett handled it with softer gestures than he would have with a newborn, more caring with the little ball of light than he was with his own violin, despite teasing words and playful nudges.

So, all things considered, Eddy considered, in this case, a lost heart was better than a found one.