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Day and night, sun and moon. Some say, they’re fallen gods—condemned to keep order on the Earth’s surface. They had no names, therefore names they were given—the Sun and the Moon. Different, but dependent and cohesive.
They’re on Earth, the Sun and the Moon, hot and cold. There’s a lake that connects and divides them, it has no end, and neither does their land, there is no horizon. They can reach the sky, as they must, but it’s on Earth that they spend most of their time. So, some say it was nature’s call from billions of years ago, but no one knows exactly when it started—when they started, the Sun and the Moon, as eternal beings in a humane form.
Said lake is cold when the Moon steps inside, flickering with stars born under their feather touch. It turns hot once the Sun dips their feet in the waters. One of them at a time, is what you can see, but if you’re lucky—if they’re lucky—the lake flows around two ephemeral bodies. Day and night, they don’t come together, unless the Sun misses the Moon too much, or unless the Moon can’t go without the Sun any longer. It’s an old curse—to touch only once in a while.
Some say, love tore them apart. Some say it’s love that keeps them toge—
But how does it start?
Huh?
How does the story start? Every story has a start. You know, once upon a time, far, far away…
I’m afraid this isn’t that kind of a story, darling.
Okay, so how were they born?
The Sun and the Moon?
The Sun and the Moon, yes.
Well. Okay. I guess you’re right.
Once upon a time, like, billions of years ago, the universe was chaos that spun and spun around with no rhyme or reason. Until one day, it spun so fast that the chaos sparked like two dry sticks rubbed together and fell apart into more stable galaxies. Those galaxies were made of dust, gas and matter that sometimes formed systems, including the solar system that we live in. An immense cloud of gas and dust collapsed under the influence of gravity. It also spun fast, then faster, faster and faster, until it flattened into a disk, and most of the solar nebula was pulled towards the center to form what we know today as the Sun, planets, moons and stars.
Without the Sun’s light, the traveling brothers and sisters—stars and moons—wander in darkness and wait for their turn to bask in the Sun’s warmth, feeling their kiss that gets hotter with every step you take towards the Sun. And beware: if you approach them all too carelessly, you might just end up in ashes.
The Sun wandered to every planet in the solar system, but they took a particular interest in Earth—a place near enough to be bathed in the sunlight, but far enough to not burn. Earth was where lands began to emerge from under the waters, where fauna and flora crept across the surfaces. Because Earth wasn’t lonely, you know? Various creatures walked the planet, swam the ocean, and flew through the atmosphere, and no other planet the Sun knew had creatures like those on Earth.
One day, the Sun had enough of watching, they wanted to touch. They took the form of a man, a creature strong and handsome, with warm eyes, tanned skin and a mane of soft dark curls. Their very smile, bright and glorious, could make spring roses bloom from their buds, could light up the whole world. They stomped down on the ground, and dipped a hand in the lake—and day was born. The Sun walked deeper into the warm waters and looked around. They took in the sight of a whole plethora of colors of life, and then their gaze fell across the water that reflected the celestial sphere. And there, on the other side of the image of the sky, right in front of the Sun’s eyes…
The Moon! Right?
Yes. Yes, it was the Moon. Mother Earth’s best guardian.
The Moon had hair soft and airy that glistened with silver white, glowing eyes of deepest blue, and skin paler than light itself. When the Moon laughed, stars were born, and when the Moon cried, the oceans rose and fell, and when the Moon finally spotted the Sun across the lake, they pushed into the waters and spooked the Sun out of them, and that’s how night was born.
So that’s how the story started. With day and night.
Could day and night meet?
Sometimes.
Were they friends?
Oh, darling, they were the greatest friends. The Earth’s balance depended on their friendship and respect, on how they completed each other, and how they understood their importance. They knew their time, when to step inside the waters, when to step out. They knew they only had so many moments to share, sometimes close, sometimes closer. Sometimes, they could touch. But most of the time, they spoke from a distance.
What did they speak about?
Well, everything.
Everything?
Absolutely. See, the Sun watched over one half of the world when the Moon was busy, and the Moon took care of the other half when the Sun focused on carrying out their duty. When the distance made conversation difficult, they wandered between the creatures of the planet, watched them grow and adjust to their surroundings. They then would come back and wait for an opportunity to tell each other how Earth was adapting and growing. They’d say how they missed each other and how they wished they were able to be fully together.
But they were still best friends—inseparable, even when separated. They belonged to each other, since their little world depended on their belonging.
Time passed, and one day the Moon said, never shy: “I love you.” And, you know, the Sun smiled ‘cause the Sun—
The Sun knew.
Of course. Always, darling. The Sun always knew.
So they loved each other in their own way, fulfilling and wholesome, with enough love to survive the moments when they couldn’t be together. And the world spun, on and on, and there were other planets, see, but the Sun had no interest in other planets. The Moon was on Earth, and the Sun had no intention of leaving the Moon. So the Sun stayed, abandoning the rest of the solar system, abandoning other moons and other celestial bodies. Some planets turned to hot stone, some of them froze ice cold, and none of them spoke to the Sun much ever again. They stood no fighting chance against the Moon.
Wasn’t the Sun lonely like that? Did the Moon have no other friends?
The Sun had the Moon, and the Moon had the Sun. They were certain they didn’t need anybody else, having found happiness within each other.
Okay. But they were a little wrong, right?
So very wrong. So wrong they didn’t notice when they aged and suddenly the time came to share the sky together for a lifetime or break it in two. They didn’t want to make decisions, you see, they wanted to remain where their home was. And home was them.
But didn’t they have families to help them? If the universe is so big…
Of course they had families. The Moon had brothers and sisters, you see, they were stars accompanying him day and night. But they were jealous, oh, so jealous of the Sun, too, how the Sun would shine brighter than them, how the Moon seemed to only care about the Sun. Though they knew it was wrong, the stars plotted behind the Moon’s back. They had the idea that if the Sun was gone, maybe the Moon would come back to where they thought the Moon belonged.
Unfortunately, comet beat them to wrongdoing, and in a series of horrible events, life left mother Earth’s surface. There was no way to save her, to stop the tragedy, and soon the Moon’s brothers and sisters, as well as the Moon themselves sunk into a deep dark hole of grief. And as if it wasn’t enough, one of the sisters turned to ashes, and they weren’t even there to say goodbye.
Oh, no! The Moon suffered so much loss, didn’t they? Nobody deserves this much loss.
It’s true, nobody deserves it. But it is what it is, and for what it is, baby, it’s mostly crap. Nothing we can do about it.
What was left of Earth was left in chaos. The oceans reached the skies, the clouds crowded to cry in grief, continents broke under the weight of the Moon’s pain. It was pure chaos, hopelessness and sadness turned into an apocalypse. The fauna and flora died, skies turned gray. Life could no longer be found on Earth.
But what about the lake?
Oh, the lake survived. And the Sun and Moon survived. The Moon, see, is the strongest being you can find, and part of the reason why is that they had their brothers, sisters, and the Sun by their side.
So what happened to Earth after that?
For a while, nothing. Everything froze in time and space, because grief is never easy to overcome. The Moon and Sun had nothing to wander, so they sat at their respective shores on opposite sides of the lake, and took turns in making days and nights. They exchanged no words, and had nothing to say to each other. Even the stars were dimmed at night.
Until one day, the Sun started to dip closer and closer to the middle of the lake, and the Moon became more trusting and open, and they met like they used to. The Sun wrapped their arms around the Moon and held them tight—
And the Moon’s brothers and sisters too?
Their family was what kept the Moon alive.
There are all kinds of love, you know, and when you find the one you want for the rest of your life, you don’t just treat it like a contract that you break on worse days. Love is not a teddy bear or devil in disguise. Love is when one is falling down and the other is pulling them back up.
And the Sun loved the Moon a lot, so it took a look around the graveyard that was Earth and decided to finally do something about the sorrow in the Moon’s heart. Because, darling, the thing about grief is, it never shrinks or disappears. We have to grow around it to the point until it doesn’t suffocate us anymore.
Day after day, the Sun worked through their plan to bring purpose back to the Moon’s life. The skies cleared, oceans calmed down. After the waters took their final shape, new continents were formed. As long as they could, the Sun walked the dead grounds of Earth and planted flora. Flowers sprang up underneath their feet, trees grew green leaves that new species of birds sent into motion as they jumped from branch to branch. Wolves and bears stomped into the forests where chipmunks peeked at them from above, bunnies and deers hopped across fields, the fish dove into the water bodies, and the skies were taken over by swallows.
Swallows?
Swallows mate for life, love.
Then, not daring yet to create a being in their own image, the Sun stepped back, sat at the edge of the lake, and waited for the evening to come and for the Moon to walk into the water.
And? Did they come?
Yes, they did. They stopped inches away from the Sun, white and cold. The water boiled where the Sun was standing, colliding with the Moon’s chill breeze, but that didn’t stop them from stepping closer and taking the Moon’s hand, and saying…
Saying what?
The Sun said: “Your tired eyes are the death of me.” The two of them walked out of the lake together, for they could still share a bit more time, and showed them the new life. A new bright world is never a cure for a bleeding heart, darling, but it’s a start of a new road. A new chapter. You don’t close a book after a bad chapter, because how can you know what new ones will bring on?
So the Sun showed the Moon their new road, new home, and they said, “we might not know where we are going, how long we’ll be around, but we do belong to each other. In the darkest of times, I will forever know you. You have my heart, always.”
And? What did the Moon say?
The Moon, they… Well…
Did they live happily ever after?
Oh, that they did.
But before that, you have to know there’s never a shortcut around a heartbreak. You have to live through it, feel it, and accept it. Only after you’ve accepted your pain can you truly move on.
The new life didn’t heal the Moon, but it was good enough of a start. Time passed, and the Moon was ready for a being in their image to come down on Earth and make the world theirs. Thus, humans crossed the continents, stitched together ways of verbal communication, and carried on the myths about the two eternal beings who allowed them to cherish the wealth of mother Earth.
The two lovers met at dusk and dawn, observed by the humans. They couldn’t be touched, no language reached their ears. They were given names—Sun and Moon. And the lake stayed the same, with no horizon, for it’s been their sky for eternity.
And, see, the Sun and Moon don’t collide; they only meet at dusk and dawn, but when they do finally share space—the whole Earth watches them in awe. At the darkest of times, you should look after the brightest of stars and its lover reflecting their light. That’s when you find out that love wins, sweetheart. Always.
It’s only after a couple of minutes that Harry realizes his daughter has fallen fast asleep, and her older sister is frowning at him with half-lidded eyes. The light from the apple-shaped lamp set on the nightstand fitted between two twin beds is reflecting in the light brown of her irises, brows furrowed in curiosity and lips twisted in a grimace.
“What?” he asks. He catches the choked up sound of his voice and clears his tightened throat.
Felicia shrugs. Her Winnie the Pooh quilt rides a little lower on her shoulder.
“This is not how the world was born, daddy.”
“Oh, really?” He feels the corners of his mouth pull up in a grin. “How do you know?”
“Uh, I watch Discovery Channel with pa.” She rolls her eyes, exaggerating irritation.
Harry jabs her in her side through the thick quilt, drawing out a short shriek. He then fixes her long blond hair, tucking it behind her ear. Her freckled nose glimmers in the faint light of the lamp.
“Aren’t you a little too smarty-pants for your age?”
“No?” She swats at his hand lightly, tugging her cover back up to her chin. “I just know this is not how the world was created. For the most part.”
“Well.” Harry pulls himself up from the sitting position that’s been nothing but highly uncomfortable. The nightstand’s handle has been digging between his shoulder blades for way too long. He stretches his back just enough for a couple bones to crack and bends over Felicia’s bed. “It’s definitely how our world was created, darling.”
He waits for his kid to call him a sap for the thousandth time, but it doesn’t come. Instead, she hides her smile in her pillow and hums her goodnight when Harry presses a kiss to her temple.
“Nighty-night, troublemaker,” he says before turning around and hovering over Joyce. Her thick red curls are blanketing her pale face, breath even in sleep. Harry fixes her new checkered blanket she got just tonight for Christmas.
“Night, daddy,” Felicia mutters with delay, already half asleep.
Harry turns the night lamp off, straightens up and takes one more look at his girls, raking his hair back and away from his eyes. He then leaves the room, makes a beeline for the bathroom where he washes his face, brushes his teeth and frees his locks from the bun in order to comb them before bed.
He downs a glass of milk in the kitchen, checks the lights and locks, and finally pads barefoot into his bedroom where Louis is perched up against the bed’s headboard, a book propped on his knee. The glasses on his nose are reflecting the fairy lights he demanded on making a part of the bedroom’s decor years ago, as if every day is Christmas.
“Found this in the girls’ bedroom,” he says without looking up. “Catching Stardust. Perhaps we’ll be lucky to raise a NASA engineer. Imagine that.”
It’s close to midnight and Harry feels like sleeping for a week, so it’s with a long sigh that he slides under the white-and-red striped sheets, quickly nuzzling into his favorite place between Louis’ shoulder and the pillow squeezed behind his back. He breathes in the faint trail of the blueberry shower gel mixed with the rosy scent of the fabric softener, the smell of gingerbread still not gone from both of their breaths.
“She’s already corrected me on the bedtime story,” he mumbles into Louis’ Marvel pajamas tee. “Little smartarse.”
“Oh yeah?” Louis places a kiss on Harry’s head. “What was it this time? The story of how you got drunk and contemplated your life in front of a McDonald’s?”
Harry bites Louis’ shoulder, drawing a squeak out of his husband.
“At least we know who she’s got the arseholery from.”
Louis blows a raspberry and closes the book that he puts on the nightstand along with his glasses. He then straightens his legs, looking down on Harry. The fairy lights flicker in the sky blue of his eyes, a view that hasn’t gotten boring throughout the whole of thirty years Harry has known him for.
The full view of the lake behind the patio door catches Harry’s attention. Its surface is glimmering in the light the moon in full is reflecting from the sun, smooth and occasionally sent into motion by the fish underneath.
“It was about us, that story.”
“Us two?” Louis tilts his head questioningly before cushioning his cheek on top of Harry’s head.
“Yeah.” Harry shrugs, reaching up to brush the strands of Louis’ hair at the nape of his neck. He’s long due for a haircut, but Harry’s kind of into that phase where Louis fixes his fringe right above his eyebrows and where his hair curls at the ends, creating a halo. Perhaps he’s been intentionally not bringing up the hairdresser topic. “Us two.”
“The story of how their daddies met, eh?” Louis moves down the headboard, taking the pillow and Harry down with him. He makes them both comfortable under the sheets before turning the lamp off and closing his eyes. Only after he’s curled himself around Harry, he mutters: “Love, I don’t think we’re much of a story to tell.”
Harry has no restraint and too much love, so his eyes are left a little lidded, well used to the fairy lights, as he’s tracing Louis’ ridiculously long lashes with the pad of his thumb.
“Rude.” He drags his fingers along Louis’ beard. “Also not true.”
“We’re childhood friends that fell in love. Save for me mum and Fizzy, I’d say we ain’t had many bumps along the road. We’re pretty much normal, Haz.”
“Maybe. But I spiced it up.”
“Of course you did.” Louis’ eyeroll can be heard in his sigh. “So what’d you do? Make me a Superman and you a Lois?”
“First of all, you’re Lois.” Harry pushes his nose into the warmth under Louis’ ear. “Second of all, no. I was properly creative for once and plotted the world’s birth into our story.”
“As in?”
“Just, you know. How the planets were made, how the sun was born, how it met the moon. How the moon and the sun fell in love but could only meet every so often since the moon’s father wasn’t so approving of their friendship…”
“Hold up, I’m the moon?” Louis pulls himself into a half sitting position, pushing Harry off playfully as his frown burns a hole in Harry’s head. “I’m totally the sun, you bloody bastard!” He socks Harry in the shoulder, earning himself a hiss of pain. “Snake raised on me own blood, can’t believe it.”
Harry doesn’t give in to the hassle, instead grabs Louis by his tee and drags him back down just to bury himself into its soft cotton. He pins his husband to the bed with his weight, squishing his cheek on the protruding collarbone.
“Well,” he mumbles into Louis’ chest. “Maybe we kind of share that, really.”
Outside the bedroom window, the lake mirrors the clear sky, flickering with stars and the full moon. On the other side of it, there’s an empty house waiting for a buyer, holding memories of a bad father, a dearly missed mother, and a handful of kids that have gone on with their lives in different parts of the country.
“Maybe we do,” Louis says, curling his arms around Harry’s torso. “Sharing the light is the only way of bearing it, innit?”
On this side of the lake, the one that Harry and Louis have grown up around, there’s a house filled with love, warmth and acceptance. With the sun and the moon, and the stars, and a whole damn world.
“Haz?”
“Yeah?”
Louis brings one hand a little higher to card through the strands of Harry’s hair. “How does it end? The story?”
That’s the best thing about it. “It doesn’t.”