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Etho thinks Bdubs looks like the Sun. It’s ridiculous really, a bit too on the nose- believe him, he knows. Sleeps through every night, golden skin and shining eyes, yes of course Bdubs looks like the Sun. Etho’s even heard the stories from the trip through the rift: “Etho! Oh you won’t believe it, I became the god of the sun!” The cloak he came back in shimmered with every step he took but it couldn’t have shone brighter than the smile on his face when he told Etho everything that happened in the other world. They were in the ruins behind the monolith where Etho had started a small garden. He beamed and explained the wonders of improv as Etho tended the tulips, periwinkles, and dwarf sunflowers (yes, mini sunflowers. Etho may joke that it’s about his height but the creases in the corners of Bdubs eyes hid a knowing smile). They sat in the garden until the sun was setting and if seeing him glow in golden hour took Etho’s breath away then no one needs to know. Glowstone, sunbeams, and joy making him truly celestial. By the void, if Etho didn’t believe Bdubs became a god before he certainly did then. Yet the end of the day left Bdubs yawning and fighting to stay awake and talk- it took only a little convincing before Bdubs went to bed.
That leads to now: Etho sitting on the front steps of the monolith, redstone blueprints abandoned in the kitchen. If Bdubs is the sun, then Etho is convinced he’s the moon. It makes sense, honestly, a bit too on the nose. As opposed to the warm summers of the sun the moon brings thoughts of a quiet winter chill. Cold and far away, without a light of its own. Not always, Bdubs would say, I think about warm summer nights and fireflies. Nights like this one, Etho supposes. There’s a soft pleasant breeze stirring through the leaves and creating the perfect atmosphere to sit outside and think. He looks up at the moon now- almost full, bringing a dim illumination to the birch forest around him. The moon reflects the light of the sun and well, Etho always seems the brightest when they’re together. Etho’s content to be the moon.
Bdubs suggested he add ferns to the garden: “Well fine! if you had to put me in there then you should put yourself. Some fern or something.” Etho played it off as a jab at being boring, but he’s certain Bdubs heard the smile in his voice, saw the softening of his eyes. Being direct never really was their strong suit. With a sigh, Etho stands up and heads back into the monolith and up to the kitchen. While he would admit it to no one, Bdubs is not a morning person. And so, Etho sets out his beloved mug (it’s a wonky shape and a familiar mossy green- not Etho’s best work but Bdubs insisted on keeping it) and fills the kettle with water to leave till morning. Coffee grounds are set out, right beside their old coffee maker. Easy enough for tired hands to move through the motions beyond half closed eyes (the sun will not rise without caffeine). With everything carefully prepared, Etho heads upstairs, finally tired enough to sleep. The moon must rest too.
Etho thinks Bdubs is like the Sun. Bright laughter, kind eyes, and plenty of warmth to share. And if that’s a bit too on the nose? Well, no one needs to know.