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“The stars are different in Devildom,” Beel says, leaning back on his hands to stare at the Earth’s night sky. “I don’t see Belphie’s star or mine.”
“Are they all different?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest as you rest back on the beach towel you brought to keep the sand off of your clothing.
“Yeah.” He points to the moon. “First of all, the moon is bigger, remember? You could fit a million of those in the Devildom moon.”
“You’re right. I forgot about that.”
There is silence for a few moments as you remember all those years ago. Not too long, of course, but long enough for you to forget the intricacies of Devildom.
Not long enough for you to forget how much you loved him though.
“When I was a kid,” you say, “my parents used to tell me the moon was made of swiss cheese because it had all those holes in it.”
His eyes light with a gentle reddish glow. “Is it?”
“Nope. It’s just boring, old rocks. The holes are craters from meteors hitting the surface.”
“Oh.”
After a moment, you hear a subtle grumble from his stomach. Without missing a beat, you reach into your pocket and pull out a plastic bag full of trail mix. It isn’t much, but it should hold Beel over for an hour depending on how much you manage to distract him in the meantime. You have become used to carrying snacks over the years, sure to always have fresh fruit, granola, or even a lunch box of cool sandwiches for those moments when he needs a little energy.
As you pass the bag, he pops it open and chomps down half of the nuts and dried fruit in a single mouthful. Between munches, he thanks you, and you smile.
Your gaze wanders around the stars again as he eats. The big dipper. The little dipper. Orion, but especially Orion’s belt—three stars that sit in a straight line making up the center of the constellation.
You tap Beel’s knee and point up to the sky. “Do you see those three stars?” you ask.
“Hm? Oh. Yeah, those.”
“Can we make them our stars?”
He coughs, chokes for a moment before catching his breath. “Ours?” he asks, closing the plastic baggie and setting it aside. “All three of them?”
“Yeah, because we need one for Belphie too,” you say with a small smile. “Even if he’s back in Devildom, we need to keep him in mind, right? And this way, I’ll have stars of yours in my world too.”
Beel grins like a kid with a fresh ice cream cone. “I’d like that,” he says, leaning back on his hands again. Then, he shifts onto his side to rest on his elbow facing you. His crimson hair falls in front of his eyes, and he swipes it away with a flick of his head.
You glance at him, pausing at his expression. His eyes are soft, caring, adorable. He gives a vague smile, barely there but noticeable. “What?”
“I was just thinking,” you say, “about how you still need to go back soon.”
“Why are you thinking about that?” he asks, hurt evident in his voice.
You hadn’t meant to upset him, so you managed to force a smile. “I’ll miss you, is all,” you say. “I miss all of you, but I’ll miss you the most.”
For a moment, he searches your face for an expression he doesn’t seem to find. Then, he rubs his chin in thought. “It’s weird,” he says. “When I’m back home since you left, I’m either way more hungry, or I don’t want to eat at all.”
“But you have to eat.”
“I usually do,” he says, “but sometimes all I want to taste is you.”
A heat flushes across your skin. “Me?”
“Yeah.” He smiles and leans closer, his head turning to the side as his breath dances over your cheeks. “Call it gluttony, I guess, but nothing satisfies me without you by my side.”
As his lips meet yours, your heart stops beating for a moment. The ocean waves silence. The wind stops. The globe spins on its axis for a second before stuttering to a halt, as he whisks an arm around your waist and tugs you closer until your bodies are one, until your breaths harmonize, until the kiss softens and you back off for air that he doesn’t seem to need.
And he grins, his arm firmly around you as he rubs circles into your shoulder blades. “I missed you too,” he says, his eyes wandering down to your lips once again. “I was so hungry.”
You smile and tilt your head closer. “Do you think if the moon were made of cheese, it would be enough for you?”
Laughing, he presses a kiss to your forehead. “Not as long as I can have you instead,” he chuckles, pulling you against his chest. “I wouldn’t trade you for a whole realm of cheese.”