Chapter Text
Open skies welcome her darting eyes. The chill was a slight shock to her senses, but she smiles at the authenticity. Always so familiar, the nighttime breeze a comforting compress on her skin like an ice pack on a swelling bruise.
The wooden balcony creaks under her as she leans out over the edge on her tippy toes to examine the expanse above. She leans a little too far, feeling like an excitable little kid who has to be held back by their parents. Except, nobody intercepted her and her otherworldly enamour for the stars.
In contrast to the cold, she absorbs the warmth of the stars surrounding her as if she were floating in the galaxy alongside them, and not just wearing her pajamas out on her balcony. She can only wonder from this far, unanswered questions burning through her tongue, about how far the stars stretched, if she could ever reach.
It’s almost frustrating in a way that makes her eyebrows furrow-- but it keeps her on the tips of her toes– quite literally. Like a book with an open ending, it’s a mystery she can ponder about for lightyears until all the constellations fizzle out for good; lights forever snuffed out. The ideas she formulated from her observations could keep her entertained for eternity, so it wasn’t something she could ever complain about. The journey was more exhilarating than its destination, so for that, she can look forward.
All she struggles with is finding the start of the said journey. The spark to her fuse, the lighted match to her firework. Sailors use the stars as a compass, a guide, a map for the seas; but to her knowledge, nothing of that sort exists for intergalactic travel. Which sucks. If she could swindle a bartender for that information like how people did in those movies she watched a bit too often, she would have by now. For now, she turns her attention to what could be her newest adventure.
Up close, stars are molten gold balls of an unrelenting blaze; but from galaxy to Earth, the diamond dust tossed into the sky emits a ghostly luster dimmer than what truly beholds up in the air. Truly curious things.
So far, she murmurs to herself with a trace of a smile on her lips. To close that distance would be more than she could ever desire.
But she’s always loved a challenge. To the ends of the universe she would travel to meet that unspoken want.
Some stars shiver with blinding light, spinning beams down to Earth like a spotlight illuminating a sole performer. Others shy to the edges of her peripheral vision. Every single one of them is not lost to her appreciation, sparking a specially-crafted grin to each. A galaxy ensemble, each just as important as its brothers and sisters.
The cold, night air mixed with the comfort of the innumerable stars around her was a medicine to her loneliness. A sweet medicine that only grew sickeningly addictive over time, losing its effectiveness each longing glance she took.
Forget that. She forces her eyes back up at the sky, but her hands betray her, fidgeting.
They are held together by their own gravity. They rise so high, and so far from Lightbulb's reach, but she’s a firm believer that there is no limit beyond the sky. Beyond the darkness, as long as her heart keeps beating, she can feel the warmth floating indecipherably close to her bit by bit. The excitement almost chokes her at the thought.
She sighs dreamily, resting her elbow on the railing and propping her chin up on her hand. Living in a forest far from any kind of city had its perks. No light pollution, and being very close with the few neighbors she had.
Every night, this was a solemn practice that was almost a ritual to her. Standing on her poorly crafted and frankly dangerous balcony to stargaze and mumbling to herself things only she would laugh about. Thinking about things she would rather forget about. For someone so eager and bright, silence blankets her world in the presence of her precious stars. A sort of warped tunnel vision in their midst. The celestial bodies call her name with their silent song of allure.
Her precious stars; not that they belonged to her, but sometimes she’d like to think they were. That she was in full control of their beauty, marking up constellations with a gel glitter pen of her own creation. She giggles, breathing out an icy puff of fog, tracing some amalgamation of the Big Dipper and Scorpius messily in the air with her pointer finger.
Oh, what ethereal things. Her own bright light barely rivaled mother nature. Who knew smoldering spheres of hydrogen and helium could be so lovely to the eyes? The magic she could bring to the world if she could have a hand in their placement and existence.
The wooden balcony screeches in warning when she subconsciously leans in further. Lightbulb wobbles as she tries to hold herself up over the railing before successfully steadying herself. She sighs a breath of relief, clutching the balcony railing harder than usual leaving indents on the pliable wood, and vaguely notes to herself to ask Test Tube to examine it later this week. A wild animal shrieks in the woods somewhere below, a feral and echoing noise, which promptly reminds her to not sleep too late, lest she’d be exhausted tomorrow.
She blinks the lingering sleepiness in her eyes away, but with that they return tenfold. Her limbs held a heavy drag on them with each step she took. Maybe she’d stayed out later than she should have, she thinks as she forces herself a few steps further, fueled by the promise of her fluffy bed.
She slides open the door with practiced ease, met with flickering candlelight illuminating her room. Posters and tapestries wallpapered the room, tacked or taped up in a disorganized array. Some overlapped others, and some were left discarded across the floor.
A band poster she had snagged a few years ago from a garage sale glared up at her. Fairy lights were strung across the ceiling, a far cry from the blinding radiance of the stars, but bringing a grounding solace nonetheless. Her bedroom was reminiscent of a childhood tent, built with starry eyes and toothy grins, except much larger, lived in, and perhaps a sprinkling more childish.
As Lightbulb stumbles along the carpet, focusing on not tripping over her own feet, she passes by an old telescope, gifted to her some birthdays ago from a name she couldn’t recall. It catches her eye, although most days she forgets it's there. Subconsciously adjusting it, the cool metal grazes her warm hand. She only remembers it's there when she isn’t using or needs it, which means she hasn’t used it at all. It’s a nice, pretty thing. Probably expensive, but she’s never cared about material aspects like that. Something Test Tube would adore and love to own, or maybe she already has one– she ought to ask.
She’s never specifically asked for a telescope before, or even wanted one. Space was an endless void that she would rather capture in its entirety than focused and searching for one thing.
The telescope was composed of a beautiful navy and silver color combination made of high-quality metal with a shiny finish. With a delicate touch, she tips one side upward. The lens didn’t have a single smudge or fingerprint on its glassy surface. She traces her finger along its side, watching the dust displace in a tired fascination. It should be well-loved, considering her passion for all things astrology, but the film of dust on it only guilts her.
Leaping onto her bed, the mattress squealed in distress under her. A pinching sound greets her ears, and another wave of guilt washes over her as she realizes it would have been smart to check where she was landing beforehand. Luckily, disaster was narrowly avoided. She tucks her arm under her pillow, burying her face into it as pearly black eyes stared at her.
“Goodnight Baxter,” she whispered cheerily to the crab beside her head. She smiles when the crab responds with two pinches of his claws. Her eyelids droop, sleepiness weighing on her head like stone. She doesn't fight the welcoming daze flooding her mind. In a few seconds, she’s lost to the steady drift of dreamland.
Unbeknownst to her, a winged protector in orbit high up clicks their tongue, a mass of radiance hovering in their palm.