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If Connor could count, he'd be able to tell you how many hours he'd been floating in space.
He can't count and he can't speak but he would do it if he could.
Connor floated aimlessly and observantly, always watching and burning brightly, in a cluster of others similar in size and brightness.
Connor liked being apart of a cluster, he can feel the energy of the lonelier stars as he spiraled around in the vast emptiness, feeling their pull. He'd feel bad for them, if he could.
Connor didn't know what else to do but to burn, to create light and to emit energy. He didn't know if there was an end, despite knowing of his beginning. He'd say he'd feel content regardless of the unknown, but it's hard to that when you're a star.
Connor liked the space in space, he liked the light years that separated him from the other stars, he liked his cluster and would never want to be like the others floating alone but he liked that he could burn on his own, being impressive by his own light.
Connor loved being a star, it was all he knew.
Connor didn't know why he burned, but he loved to do it. But when he felt his flame diminishing, he was content about that too.
This is what he burned for, he was sure of it. He had watched several of the stars in his cluster shrink and collapse into their own, and he was ready for it to be his turn.
He grew smaller and smaller, until there was nothing left, and if he could identify what his last thoughts were, if he could think, he'd tell you he was excited.
Troye was easily impressed, Connor learned early on. He was very easy to please and would celebrate the smallest accomplishments. When he was tired, and Connor would help him out of his clothes or bring him a glass of water, he'd press kisses into every bare part of Connor he could reach, tickling his skin with thank you's.
He'd always praise Connor's work, always a willing eye to watch his videos, or ready to pose for an impromptu photoshoot.
He'd hop in place when the shot was particularly beautiful, bumping his shoulder against Connor's when he couldn't kiss him when they were in public.
Troye encouraged Connor in everything he did, ready to give advice or to praise it when it was finished. Connor never had to worry if Troye would be let down or disappointed, both because Connor was confident in his choice and his endless support.
Still, Connor had moments before he showed him an old favorite song or a new video or a poetic tweet, anxiously anticipating Troye's reaction. Because yes, he could love it and appreciate the work but would he understand what it means, and why it means so much to Connor?
That was the emotion Connor felt as he lied on the grass, sunflowers creating a wall around him, towering over him. The sun had gone down, the sunset captured in stills on the device inside their jackets.
Troye lie beside him, breathing in the fresh air in deep breaths, hands running over the grass where his hands rested.
Connor knew Troye would love this place, would love the serenity. Love that the flowers around them created a barricade that kept outsiders from intruding. The way they swayed in the breeze and the way the sunlight made them glow as it descended. He'd love the crisp cold air that bit at their cheeks, even though summer was far from over back home. He'd love the way the music that played from their phones blended with the sound of wind rustling the leaves. And when they shut the music off he'd love the crickets singing in the distance.
He knew he'd love all that because Connor loved all of it, but he hoped he loved what he loved most.
There weren't many times Connor wanted Troye's attention to be anyone's but his, but right now he wished more than anything that he wasn't focused on him but the vast sky above.
Connor loved the stars the most. When he was little and found out there were billions of them, he'd try to prove it by counting them when he came here with friends. He never got too high before his parents called him home.
He watched them with wide eyes, letting them refocus and catch sight of the dimmer specs he hasn't noticed before, feeling his heart swell at the beauty.
He hoped Troye was watching, hope he understood what he was suppose to appreciate the most. Because Troye knows beautiful sunsets and bright lights but had he ever seen a sky a clear as this one? Connor hoped he hasn't.
"I loved this." This was the first time either of them spoke since the music was shut off. Troye'e voice was quiet, not like he was forcing it, but as though he didn't know how to speak at a higher volume. His voice belonged to the field they lied in, the wind refusing to let him voice himself any louder.
Connor almost didn't want to respond, he was being silly but he didn't want Troye to be complimenting the flowers or referencing the weather, he didn't want to turn to him and see his eyes meet his. He held his breath as he turned to face him.
Troye's eyes were closed, arms stretched out, breathing in the cold air deeply, sighing it out as his eyes opened and Connor watched the wonder in them as the stars reflected in them.
He knew then that Troye understood, saw the same look in his eyes that he felt in his every time he came here. Connor let himself breathe again.
"Do you think stars get lonely?"
There was a time when Connor didn't let himself voice his odd questions. He didn't hold himself back when he was a kid, but when he began to hide parts of himself that he wouldn't come to look at again for years, he hid that away too.
When he moved to LA and was surrounded by boys his age with dreams similar to his he found himself voicing them once in awhile. They'd ask if he was high and he laughed because it was funny, but he never got an answer.
The first time Troye and Connor skyped late into Connor's part of the world, he tiredly asked him if he thought the sand on the beach wished it was in the ocean.
He was too tired to be embarrassed but he was ready to laugh the question away and claim he was exhausted when Troye answered him.
"I don't think so, wasn't the whole would water at some point? Maybe the sand on the beach was the dirt that got out. They escaped." He said with a laugh, amused by the question and at the yawn Connor released, the call ended soon after.
It was after that night and much more like it that Connor would realize the tightness in his chest wasn't just the walls closing in on him from hiding from the world but his heart slowly jumping out of his body to fall into the Australian's hands.
He became comfortable with his odd musings, at least around Troye, who never showed any judgement.
"Lonely?" Troye asked, voice still small.
"Yeah, do you think they're aware of how far everything is from them?" Connor wondered. "Do they know they're alone?"
Troye watched the sky, turning to face Connor with a curious face. "Do you think they do?"
Connor smiled, "I don't know."
Troye hummed thoughtfully, looking up again. "Maybe they like being alone."
Something tugged at Connor's gut, instantly agreeing with with the words as Troye spoke them.
"Do they know why they're stars? Do they know what purpose they have?"
Troye didn't hesitate to reply with his own question "What purpose do they have?"
Connor shrugged, "like I said, I don't know. But do they know?" Connor paused. "Maybe they don't care." He wasn't really talking to Troye anymore, speaking his thoughts aloud, making sense of them as they spilled from his lips. "What if they have no idea but they're okay with it anyway? What could you do, floating in space, burning for years? Nothing. They just have to be." Connor felt Troye watching him, but he knew if he met his gaze his eyes would show no judgement. "But what if they don't want to?" He finished his rant with furrowed brows, but Troye had a quick response.
"No, I think you were right at first." He raised his arms towards the sky to make his point, gesturing to the lights above them. "They are okay with it, I mean, I don't think they'd twinkle as much if they weren't."
Connor chuckled, giddy at being humored. His smile grew as watched the stars, twinkling like Troye said, almost like a wink.
"What happens to them when they die?" Connor asked when their laughter disappeared with the wind.
He heard and felt Troye shrug. "I don't know, maybe you can answer that one."
Connor turned away from the sky once again, and didn't look back. He watched Troye, his pale face gazing up, eyes shining and mouth set in a permanent smile. He looked so comfortable, in this field far away from anywhere he'd call home. He traced his jawline with his eyes, the tip of his nose and tried to count his eyelashes, having to restart every time he blinked. He watched his throat move as he swallowed, his neck stretch out, his chest rise with each breath he took.
Connor returned his eyes to Troye, who was watching him now.
Connor didn't want to say what he thought happened to them when stars died. Didn't want to open his mouth to tell Troye he thinks they fall down to earth and land in his eyes, or tell him he thinks they collect in his chest when they're intertwined late at night, when his chest is heavy and all he could feel and think and breathe is Troye, Troye, Troye.
He doesn't want to tell Troye he feels the stars when he sings to him, or that he swears he tastes them after they kiss.
Connor doesn't want to tell him this because Troye is still Troye and he can only take so much of Connor's pretty words before he groans and blushes, demanding they change the subject. Connor doesn't want to ruin the quiet they've built. So he says nothing.
From the held eye contact, Connor knows Troye hears it all anyways.
He turns back to the sky, feeling the piercing blue eyes watch him. It's harder for him to breathe for a moment, and he mourns the stars that caused it.
More minutes of silence pass, and Connor feels a hand grab his.
"Maybe when stars die," Troye whispers, actively making his voice smaller, nervous and maybe a bit embarrassed. "Maybe when they die, they become people."
Connor squeezes his hand, and doesn't tell him he doesn't agree.