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When Scar had seen the falling star, he thought the world was ending.
It was just like how he’d pictured the apocalypse would start—with a bright flash and a thunderous booming noise. He’d been up late that night because he couldn’t sleep, so he went into the kitchen to make himself some chamomile tea. He didn’t even like tea, but one of his friends had said something about chamomile tea helping you fall asleep, and Scar liked having little things to believe in, so he chose to believe it was true.
Thankfully when the impact hit, it wasn’t enough to shatter his windows or cause an earthquake like it usually did in the movies. He was lucky to be facing away from the screen door leading to the backyard, because he might have just been blinded by the intense white flash if his back wasn’t towards the windows. He nearly lost his balance when the ground shook and for a moment he thought he was having a nightmare—a really vivid, eerily descriptive nightmare about armageddon.
After Scar had successfully sidestepped the kettle he’d dropped onto the floor, he made his way to the backdoor and wrenched it open. His backyard was small and a little uneven, but whatever had landed in his property had been falling at a high enough velocity to leave the ground even more disturbed than it had been before. It was the middle of the night and in any normal occasion he would need a flashlight, but whatever had found its way into his backyard was emanating a glow that lit up all the surroundings. It was late fall but the backyard was absolutely sweltering , so much so that Scar could already feel sweat beading down his forehead.
He stood in the doorway and stared at the figure that picked itself up from the newly formed crater in the ground. Scar had to raise his hand to shield his eyes, only picking out bits and pieces of the angelic figure in front of him. As the seconds passed it was easier to make out the features of the whatever-it-was that he was not-looking at. Maybe it was his eyes adjusting to the brightness, or maybe it was the whatever-it-was shifting its form.
Glowing, golden skin that pulsed with little veins of light. White-hot hair that was untamed and unruly. A thin, shorter stature. Large, pitch-black eyes that didn’t not resemble black holes.
It dawned on Scar that maybe he wasn’t the protagonist in an apocalypse movie, after all; e was actually the star of an extraterrestrial movie , and he’d just been visited by his very first alien.
“Hello?” said Scar, unsure what else to do. It was still hard to look at the alien, even though the brightness was dimming with every passing second. For some reason he wasn’t scared, not in the slightest. If anything he was excited .
The alien opened its mouth—or, Scar thought that was what it was trying to do, it looked a little more like a hole opening up relatively where the alien’s mouth would be, and revealing a neon red wall of color. A garbled, static-y noise was the only response Scar got, and it hurt to listen to, similarly to looking at the alien’s appearance.
What happened next was a blur. Scar wasn’t sure if it was due to the radiation the alien was clearly giving off, but later he found it hard to recall exactly what happened after he found the alien. He remembered bringing the alien inside once it had cooled down(it was also giving off immense amounts of heat, he remembers that) and trying to give it some tea. He thought that it broke the mug and he vaguely remembered cleaning up spilt tea the next day, and it certainly would explain what happened to that mug that just randomly disappeared from his cupboard.
What Scar did remember most from the whole encounter was that he figured out the true identity of the being that had crash landed in his backyard. It wasn’t some world-ending apocalypse harbinger, and it wasn’t an alien coming to abduct him for unethical science experiments in space.
It was a star. A star had fallen into his backyard.
How cool was that?
- ✰ -
The next morning things were a lot calmer. Now that Scar knew what he was dealing with, he felt confident he could make progress towards communication with the star. And eventually, maybe he could figure out why the star had crash landed in his backyard and help get it back home.
Or stop it from taking over the planet, but he was hoping that the latter was the less likely of the two. Glass half full, and all!
The star looked different when he came out of his bedroom. Its appearance was more or less similar to what it had looked like when he originally found it, but it was definitely becoming more and more human-like every time he saw it. That morning the glowing skin had dulled, even though there was still a vague yellowish tint present. The star had definitely cooled down a lot but still retained a high enough temperature that kept the room heated without the boiler’s help. Its hair was still that white-hot color, but looked more textured. The most notable of differences, Scar appreciated, was the eyes were no longer black vortexes, but had slimmed down to regular old eyeballs, with irises and pupils and scleras. The star was dressed, thankfully, although Scar wasn’t sure what he would see if it were undressed, since it appeared to be mimicking his appearance. Gosh, he couldn’t wait to start learning!
It was really slow going, and even though Scar had been expecting that, he really wasn’t enjoying the language barrier separating the two of them. Part of him had been hoping that it would be like those alien movies where there’s a miraculous speech translator that allows the two species to communicate effortlessly, but Scar should have known better by that point that this was nothing like the movies.
The star seemed to understand Scar perfectly fine, but its speech was still that horrible garbling noise that made Scar feel like he’d broken a bunch of glass in the garbage disposal. They were at it all morning—Scar asking simple questions, only for the star to try and answer to varying degrees of success. Apparently the star was better at mimicking appearances than it was at mimicking speech patterns.
They took a break around lunch time, and Scar decided to investigate the crater in the backyard after he’d had his meal. No debris had been left over from the crash, thankfully, so he reasoned that the star literally fell out of the sky . The damage could have been a lot worse, but Scar still wasn’t sure how he was supposed to explain to his landlord and the landscapers what had happened. He’d already decided no one could know about his new star friend, he didn’t want the government coming to abduct it!
Scar had been pacing around the crater and inspecting it from various angles for five minutes by the time the star came out to join him. It stood just beside him and stared down at the hole, as well. Slowly, it crossed its arm against its chest, copying Scar’s posture. It made him smile.
“Sorry.”
It wasn’t much at all, but Scar could make it out amongst the garbling and radio static. When he looked at the star, it was staring up at him with those dark eyes. He hadn’t yet decided if they were more like black holes, or a window into the dark cosmos themselves.
Scar’s smile widened. They were making progress.
“It’s okay,” he said slowly, hoping it registered. He put a hand on his chest. “Scar.” He sounded out the consonants of his own name, hoping he got the point across.
The star said nothing for a long moment. The heat rolled off of its body in waves and was comforting against the chill in the early November air.
Finally, the star opened its mouth and tried again.
“ Scar .” It reached out and put a hand against Scar’s chest in roughly the same spot Scar’s hand had been moments earlier. The touch was uncomfortably warm, but Scar couldn’t find it in himself to care. The star was talking in english! And it said his name!
Scar had a good feeling about this.
- ✰ -
The easiest way to get the star to learn English quickly was through movies, and thankfully, Scar had plenty of those on hand. It was as simple as popping a movie into the TV and letting the star watch while he was doing other things around the house. He was a little nervous to leave the house for work at first, but when he made it back home the star was exactly where he’d left it: sitting in front of the TV and watching through the entire Star Wars cinematic universe.
Once they had nailed spoken language, things moved quicker. With every passing day the star became more and more human-like, and slowly its speech began to become more coherent and less like a broken radio. It was still uncannily warm , but Scar didn’t have to be worried about it breaking or melting his appliances anymore (he’d already had to buy a new hairbrush, order a new toaster, and one of his kitchen chairs now had scorch marks on it).
But the biggest issue of all was figuring out personal information about the star. The star certainly knew things about Scar—his name, his routines, his food preferences—but Scar knew nothing about it. Where did it come from? Was it from the Milky Way, or some other far off galaxy? How was Scar supposed to refer to the star? Did it have a preferred name, preferred pronouns? Could stars even comprehend the complexities of gender ?
Scar decided the best way to go about it was to let the star show him where it came from. If the star was from the Milky Way, he could use a simple google search to help locate where the star came from, and maybe find its name along the way!
Unfortunately, the star didn’t seem to understand what Scar was trying to do. He gave the star the benefit of the doubt, since it must be a lot different to experience the cosmos in person compared to a laggy computer screen propped up on Scar’s dining table.
After what felt like hours of trying to navigate through the poorly rendered versions of the cosmos that were available on Google, they finally got somewhere. While looking through pictures of the very outermost parts of the Milky Way, the star got very excited and kept pointing at the screen—the star really liked pointing, Scar had discovered. When he zoomed up on one bright ball of light in the picture, the star seemed to approve that it was indeed a representation of the very same one that was currently sitting in Scar’s kitchen. He couldn’t blame the star for getting excited at seeing a picture of itself; if one of Scar’s pictures went viral on the internet, he’d be ecstatic, too.
It was easy to find the name after locating the star. It must have been Greek or Latin or something , because Scar had never heard of the name Grian before.
Because they hadn’t tackled reading, yet—Scar didn’t even know how to begin explaining nor teaching the star how to read—Scar had to do the honors of ensuring that that was indeed the star’s name.
Imitating how he’d introduced himself the other day, Scar slowly put his hand on the star’s chest, palm flat. His hand was met with a warmth, but not an uncomfortable one, this time.
“Grian?” he asked, looking up to meet the star’s dark eyes.
The star’s lips curled up into a smile as it gently placed its fingers on Scar’s wrist. It may have just been the fact that the star was from the vast expanse of space, but its smile was spectacular .
“Grian,” the star confirmed. There was a kind of uncanny beauty about the star—the faint glow, the golden aura that outlined it if Scar unfocused his eyes, the way its smile formed inhumanly but kindly all the same. It was only then that Scar realized that he didn’t have to go outside at night and look up at the stars if he wanted to see a picture of beauty, he already had one right in front of him.
- ✰ -
Grian was a very fast learner, and soon enough, Scar was letting him come along with him to run errands—oh, and he’d decided that since Grian was presenting as masculine most days that he would use he/him pronouns for him, until Grian could properly grasp the concept of pronouns and decide if he wanted to go by something else. Going to the grocery store was great to introduce Grian to lots of different things, but the stuff Grian seemed most captivated by was the architecture of the city.
Scar assumed it was because there weren’t really buildings in space—or at least, not that he knew of. So he was more than happy to take walks with Grian along the strips of buildings and houses and just let the star look . Seeing Grian’s face light up everytime they passed by a new, intricately-designed building was like watching galaxies form in front of his own eyes. Scar didn’t think he’d ever get sick of looking at Grian.
“Very nice,” Grian would say with a sage nod. He had his hands folded behind his back, which Scar found kind of odd. Where had he picked that mannerism up from? “Very nice, indeed.”
“What do you like about this one?” They were standing in front of the city library, and if Scar’s memory served him right, it was at least a century old. It was a very pretty building, even if it didn’t get much business nowadays due to the changes in technology—it was snow capped thanks to the late December weather, with icicles hanging from the carefully sculpted eaves and frost dusted across the surface of the glossy windows.
Grian had to take a moment to consider Scar’s question. “The colors. And shape.” Scar supposed that was a good enough explanation from someone who was still learning the English vocabulary. He was going to leave that as that, until Grian confidently declared, “It’s very chobblesome.”
Scar very nearly choked on his own breath. “Excuse me?” Grian turned to him and blinked idly at him—his blinking was slow and often happened only every five minutes, but at least he understood now that humans were expected to blink. “What was that word you just said?”
“Chobblesome,” Grian repeated in the same exact tone of voice.
“And where did you hear it?” Scar snickered.
The star shrugged. Scar thought that must have been the first time he’d seen Grian shrug. “On your internet.”
Well, it didn’t explain everything, but Scar would take that as an explanation. Maybe he was going to have to curate Grian’s exposure to the internet a little more strictly from now on.
“Sure, sure. It’s chobblesome,” Scar agreed.
Grian’s smile widened, and he returned his attention to the library in front of them. “Told you. Chobblesome. ”
There they stood, in line with one another as they admired a century old building. A strange pair, for certain—an extraterrestrial being hailing from the outer edges of the galaxy, and the man whose backyard he had crash-landed into by some cosmic accident. It was altogether very odd, but as Scar stood beside Grian, his hand at his side and itching to be held in Grian’s own, he felt pretty comfortingly ordinary; as if he was any other man in the world yearning for some company.
- ✰ -
“You sleep too much,” Grian greeted one morning as Scar walked into the kitchen. His eyelids were heavy with sleep and there was a yawn caught in his throat, but seeing the glorious sight that was Grian always seemed to have a way of waking him up.
Scar hummed as he began making himself a cup of coffee. “Humans need to sleep! We can’t function if we don’t!”
Grian’s expression was set as he pointed at the screen of Scar’s laptop. “Humans sleep one three out of existence. That is too much.”
With a simple smile, Scar corrected, “One-third.”
The star at his kitchen table nodded. “ One-third, ” he repeated back to Scar.
Scar shrugged as he finished filling the kettle and began to heat it up. “Like I said, we humans have so much to do, we need time to rest and build up more energy.”
“Stars do not sleep,” Grian said, an edge of snark in his voice. “Stars do not have time for sleep. We spend all our time shining.”
That brought a frown to Scar’s face and he was glad he was currently facing away from his new friend, because after Scar had explained emotions to Grian, he now questioned every time Scar frowned.
Why are you here, then? Scar wanted to ask, but kept his mouth shut. He was a little afraid to hear the answer, because he didn’t want to make Grian think he wanted him to go home. He wanted the exact opposite, in fact. They’d spent just over two months together, but Scar couldn’t even fathom what life would be like without him there. It was selfish, but Scar didn’t want Grian to leave, not now or any time in the near future.
“Stars are not humans.” Scar decided it was a good enough end to the argument. He watched the coffee pot’s timer tick down until it was ready to drink. He could hear the slow, rhythmic tapping of his laptop keyboard as Grian typed something.
“Humans are not stars,” Grian agreed. There was a strange new cadence in his voice, one Scar hadn’t heard before. When he looked over his shoulder Grian had closed the laptop and was staring at him, offering no explanation as to why he sounded sad just a moment ago. “I can have coffee?”
Scar shook his head. “Nope.” When Grian frowned—something over-dramatic and almost uncanny—Scar couldn’t help but smile a little bit at his antics. “You can’t even taste it! Plus it just burns up and makes a mess.”
Grian stared at him with an intensity behind his black-hole eyes. “Humans need to drink. I can have coffee.”
“You’re not human, though,” Scar reasoned. He poured himself a cup of coffee and noticed that Grian was now staring at the mug.
He waited for Grian’s rebuttal, which was inevitable, as ever since the star had been able to create his own voice and craft his own personality, he had begun to develop a habit of talking back to Scar.
“You like coffee, so I will like coffee,” said Grian slowly, like he was almost shocked that he himself was saying it.
Scar gave a hefty sigh and turned away, hoping to obscure the flush that was rising in his cheeks. “Fine, but like I said, you can’t even taste it!”
He poured a second mug of coffee and when he asked Grian how it tasted, the star did not know how to describe such a sensation he could not experience. He expressed that being a human must be hard and Scar laughed, but Grian was right, of course. Being a human was hard, especially when you were beginning to fall for someone you know you shouldn’t be falling for.
- ✰ -
Almost every night had become movie night, and after they’d burned through Scar’s entire collection of DVD movies, they turned to streaming services and cable to get their fix. Scar had since learned that since Grian was having to regulate his temperature while being on Earth, he couldn’t function very well due to not being used to existing at such a low temperature constantly. Scar’s solution was, of course, to bundle Grian up like his life depended on it. Which, it very well may have, considering what Scar knew about the life cycles of stars.
Scar’s clothes were big on Grian, but he didn’t seem to mind much. This particular night he was wearing one of Scar’s bulky sweaters he got from a Disneyland trip, complete with a thick blanket shared between the both of them as they sat on the couch, watching The Breakfast Club . Scar considered it a classic, so it only made sense that he’d make Grian watch it, too.
The movie was coming to a close, and just as Molly Ringwald and Judd Nelson’s characters leaned in to kiss, Grian made a noise of confusion from beside Scar.
“Why do they do that?” asked Grian.
Scar fished for the remote and hit pause , not wanting their conversation to overshadow the ending of the movie. “Do what? Kiss? ”
“Yes,” Grian said plainly.
Scar shifted in his seat, not quite sure how to approach this topic. It certainly wasn’t the first time that Grian had watched a kiss scene in a movie, so why ask about it now? And more importantly, how was Scar supposed to explain the concept of love to a non-human being?
“Well,” he started off with, cringing at himself already. “It’s what you do with someone who is special to you!”
“Special?” Grian asked, looking up at Scar curiously. His fringe was messy and long, but his mesmerizing eyes peeked through his hair all the same, captivating Scar just like they did on that very first day.
Scar nodded slowly, licking his lips and exhaling shakily. “Yeah! Someone who— who means a lot to you.”
Grian turned back to the TV, and just like that, the moment was over. “Okay. That makes sense.” He gently put the remote back into Scar’s hand. “We can continue.”
Scar’s hand trembled slightly as he pressed the un-pause button, and when Grian rested his head against Scar’s shoulder, he just about felt like he might be the one who would be imploding in on himself.
- ✰ -
“Do you miss the stars?”
It had become a habit of theirs to have late-night conversations when Scar couldn’t sleep. This was on account of the fact that Grian had decided to start sitting in the rocking chair in Scar’s bedroom and waiting for him to fall asleep. Even though it was a bit creepy at first, it seemed to make Grian happy to keep him company during the nights, especially since he himself couldn’t sleep, so Scar allowed it.
The rocking chair creaked rhythmically in the darkness of the room. Scar stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom, and although Grian’s light had dulled almost entirely during their time together, in the pitch black of his room, Scar could make out the faint glow emanating from the rocking chair corner. “Sometimes. Not a lot,” came Grian’s reply after a moment of contemplating the question. “It is lonely. Your planet is more exciting.”
That elicited a small, sleepy chuckle from Scar. “I don’t blame you.”
This was all to say that Scar didn’t want Grian to leave. He knew how these stories ended, with the extraterrestrial being returning to their home in the stars and leaving behind the human who sheltered and became attached to them. Scar had other friends, yes, but it was different with Grian.
“Why do you watch me sleep?” Scar eventually asked, trying to distract himself from the sad contemplations.
“You are vulnerable when you sleep,” Grian swiftly explained. “I can protect you.”
“Do you think a burglar is going to break in or something?”
“It is just in case. I will protect you.”
Scar let out a yawn as sleep finally began to come for him. “Whatever you say!”
“I do say.”
Scar giggled as his eyelids began to droop with fatigue, allowing himself to be carried off to the land of blissful dreams wherein his star-friend swore allegiance to him and only him, with his nonexistent heart laid out before him, prime for Scar’s taking.
- ✰ -
It wasn’t until they got to the planetarium that Scar realized what day it was.
He’d decided that it might be nice for Grian to experience space the same way that humans could: through simulations and projections. Maybe it was a tactic to try and give Grian a taste of home so that he’d stay behind on earth a little longer, but Grian didn’t have to know that!
It was a 45 minute drive, but Scar didn’t really mind all that much. Plus, it gave him an opportunity to expose Grian to some of his favorite music albums, which helped to calm him since he didn’t particularly like being in the car very much.
But it hadn’t dawned on Scar that it was Valentines’ Day until they were inside the busy planetarium and saw all the couples walking around, holding hands and being all lovey with one another. He cursed himself for picking possibly the worst date for them to go to an attraction such as this, but they'd already paid for their tickets, so Scar was going to have to make due with what he had.
“They’re too small,” Grian said as they looked up at the diorama of all the planets that hung from the domed ceiling. They slowly rotated along on a track around the largest of the figures, that being the sun. The domed ceiling in this room was painted black with projected white specks of stars, and Scar absentmindedly wondered if one of them represented Grian.
“Well they had to fit them into the room!” Scar said, holding back a snicker. His words did little to assuage Grian, who was frowning up at the diorama, still.
Eventually after a moment or two of Grian continuing to stare while teenage couples milled about the room, he eventually pointed up at the little blue and green orb that was third from the sun. “That is us? Earth?”
“Indeed it is!” Scar said, shuffling a little closer to Grian as a group of middle schoolers dashed through the room, all clutching scavenger hunt assignments and brightly colored pencils. Scar looked back up at the diorama when he was certain he wasn’t going to be run over, and barely registered a hand brushing against his own as a troublesome thought came to his mind. There were eight planets in their solar system, as well as countless other interstellar planes of existence like moons and asteroid belts—what were the chances that out of all of the places Grian could have crash-landed, it just so happened to be on one of the only planets to have known traces of intelligent life? And why Scar, of all people? How insanely lucky was it that out of all the cosmic accidents that could have occurred, Grian just so happened to crash-land into Scar’s life?
Grian pressed his shoulder against Scar’s, breaking the man out of his trance. “Tell me,” he said, looking up at Scar with excited eyes and a sneaky grin. “The earth revolves around the sun, correct?”
“Yeah, it does!” Scar only now registered the feeling of Grian’s hand brushing against his. He tried not to get his hopes up as he pressed his palm against Grian’s, holding the star’s hand gently in his own. Maybe Grian just didn’t want to get separated from Scar in the busy planetarium!
Right?
Grian’s smile mellowed out, losing its edge of shiftiness. “So it is special to the sun?”
Scar considered the question, chewing on his cheek. “Well, I mean it’s not the only planet that revolves around the sun, and it’s by no means the closest, but—” He cut himself off when he looked at Grian again and caught the glimmer in his eyes as he looked up at Scar. For a second, Scar forgot how to breathe. He wasn’t imagining this, he couldn’t be imagining the way that Grian was looking at him right then—like Scar was some grand, regal feat of architecture that Grian had stopped to stare at on the street.
Suddenly, Scar began to understand.
Swallowing his previous words, Scar said instead, “Sure, sure, the earth is special to the sun!” Then, squeezing Grian’s hand in his, “And the sun is very special to the earth, as well.”
Grian smiled at Scar and it felt like a warm embrace, like the sun on his face after a particularly harsh winter. And for a moment—one self-indulgent, wistful moment—Scar expected something to happen.
But then Grian was pulling him along to the next exhibit, using their interlocked hands as a sort of tether by which to string Scar along through the planetarium. Scar felt floaty for the rest of the day, and Grian’s hand in his began to feel right. It began to feel like it belonged there.
Scar didn’t want to get his hopes up, and yet…
And yet.
- ✰ -
It happened on an unsuspecting day; Scar had a feeling it would.
The chill in the air had finally given way to the first throes of spring and Scar was delighted to not have to be bundled up everytime he left the house. He was working on dinner while Grian watched him, seated from his usual spot at the table, the spot that had become his own during their time spent together. They were discussing the most recent movie they’d watched and Scar was already brainstorming what they could watch next, when it happened.
“Scar,” Grian said, as casual as ever, said in the same way that Scar could feel himself getting used to, “I have to go back to the stars.”
Scar exhaled shakily, letting his shoulders droop. He wasn’t surprised in the slightest, he’d been expecting to have this conversation eventually. But it didn’t stop him from being overwhelmed by the waves of anticipatory grief, the currents tugging at his ankles and threatening to pull him under.
“When?” Scar asked, doing his best to remain strong and cavalier. He didn’t turn to look at Grian, fearing for his own dignity if he met the star’s gaze during such a vulnerable moment.
The chair squeaked against the floor behind him as Scar prodded at his food in the pan, having already lost his appetite. “In the morning.”
A humorless chuckle fell off of Scar's lips. “So soon? I thought we had more time.” His voice wavered before he could get it under control, but with a sniffle and a clear of his throat he was himself again.
“I have been away for too long,” was Grian’s response, and it was much closer, now. He must have been standing just a few feet away from Scar, but he refused to turn around and look at him. “But I will come and visit!” Grian amended, and though there was a clear promise in his words, Scar could only take them at face value.
The thing was that once Grian left and was out amongst the stars again, he was going to experience time much differently than Scar would. What may only be a few months for Grian would be years back on earth, meaning that the next time Scar would see Grian probably wouldn’t be for a few decades or so.
Grian was a star. Grian would live forever, but Scar’s human life would only last so long. Grian was probably already thousands of years old, and still had infinity to go. Never before had Scar ever felt so infinitesimally small .
Scar shook his head. His throat felt like it was closing up. He could feel Grian’s presence behind him like a specter. “It’s not going to be the same. You can leave, but it won’t be the same.”
“ Scar .” A hand on his arm. Scar froze. “I do not want to leave, either.”
When Scar rounded on Grian, there were tears already streaking down his face. There was no point in hiding them any longer, so he gave himself into the emotions.
“You don’t have to. You could stay.”
Grian frowned, shaking his head. His hand was still ghosting over Scar’s bicep. “I cannot. The stars need me.”
It was selfish, very incredibly selfish , but it was Scar's last ditch effort at convincing Grian. “And what if I need you?”
Grian’s eyes misted over, his long lashes fluttering delicately against the warm tones of his skin. Scar couldn’t imagine what his world would look like without Grian in it; he wouldn’t imagine it. Grian reached upwards and began thumbing away his tears, and Scar melted into his embrace, wondering distantly where he’d learned to do that. But when Grian leaned upwards and brushed his lips against Scar’s, he did not have to think about where Grian had seen that before.
In fact, Scar didn’t think at all. He simply let his eyes flick shut and drew Grian closer to him, never wanting to let go. Grian was clearly inexperienced from only ever seeing the act of kissing being performed on TV, but it didn’t deter Scar. Even if it was simple contact, the mere brushing of lips against one another’s, Scar let himself be overwhelmed by the euphoria of it all. Grian’s hands framing his face was a feeling he never wanted to forget, and the inherent warmth that came from holding him so close was a sensation he just might miss for the rest of his life.
Grian pulled away first, as he was condemned to. There was a strange, unfamiliar intensity to his words as he spoke to Scar, “I will come back. This is a promise.”
Scar knew deep down that all this time their meeting had been a product of a cosmic accident—a right time, right place kind of thing. But what had transpired afterwards had been of their own volition. Scar could have cast Grian out, he could have called the cops, he could have tried to get Grian back home on that very first day.
But he chose Grian, and he liked to think that Grian chose him, too.
So, against all odds, Scar cracked a smile, because he knew Grian wouldn’t lie to him. “I’ll be here when you come back.” The unspoken words hung heavy in the air around them— But I’ll be different, a little older, maybe a little wiser . But they weren’t important right now, Scar decided. He needed to cherish what little time he had left with Grian before he went back home to the stars.
Seeing that Scar had been able to muster up a smile, Grian’s expression softened. Scar wondered how many more times he was going to be able to get lost in Grian’s eyes before he left.
“You are my earth, Scar.”
In that little kitchen, Grian shone just like the sun, and he was shining just for Scar.
- ✰ -
They had agreed the most painless way was for Grian to leave during the night, while Scar was sleeping. That way they didn’t have to go through the painful motions of having to say goodbye—instead, Scar could tuck himself into bed and convince himself Grian was still perched in his rocking chair, watching over him.
Grian would watch over him, just from much farther away, now.
He watched out his window just long enough to see the shooting star arc through the sky. It would be out of sight within minutes, but simply seeing the light shoot across the sky filled Scar with a wistful hope.
Grian would return to him one day, Scar had no doubt about it.