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Caelus was tired. Physically tired. His muscles were sore, his eyes have a black streak under them, and most importantly, there are a lot of hickeys and wine colored lipstick marks on his body.
It didn’t take a genius to know what he was up to last night. Especially with one of the most wanted persons in the universe, Kafka.
Strange. He knows that the two of them had sex last night, but there are a few gaps in his memories ever since their encounter. Was it because he was drunk last night? Probably. But then again, he was never really much of a drinker.
Moving slightly made him groan in pain. Ah right, Kafka went wild last night. Then again, that woman was a walking red flag to begin with.
“I wonder where she is right now?” Caelus thought.
“Yo!” A familiar voice said.
Caelus looked at the direction where the voice is. There stood a short girl, her hair was gray and was tied in a high ponytail and was styled in a drill like manner. Her outfit was a bit revealing, fitting for someone as bold as her. Silver Wolf wore a cropped black jacket with neon blue accents, the sleeves slightly oversized and the hem stopping just below her chest, exposing her stomach. Underneath, a snug, tech-inspired top hugged her figure, its circuitry-like patterns glowing faintly. Her shorts were low-rise and paired with asymmetrical thigh-high stockings, one torn, the other with holographic designs. On her feet were chunky, high-tech sneakers, perfect for quick getaways or late-night raids. Several game-themed charms and digital trinkets hung from her belt and pockets, jingling softly as she moved.
She looked like she had just stepped out of an arcade after hacking into the universe’s mainframe, and knowing her, she probably had. There was something about the way she carried herself. Nonchalant, confident, like she had everything under control even if the world was collapsing around her. The flicker of neon lights reflecting off her jacket made her look like she belonged more in a digital dreamscape than in the cold reality of the Astral Express’s dorms.
“Silver Wolf, what are you doing here?” Caelus asked, confusion evident in his tone.
“Thought I should drop by.” She shrugged, slipping her hands into her jacket pockets. “Jeez, looks like she really did go all out on you.” Her lips curled into a teasing smirk. “Then again, it had been a long time since you two had a moment.”
“Right,” Caelus muttered, his voice edged with uncertainty.
Silver Wolf’s eyes lingered on him a moment longer than usual. Her face remained unreadable, but behind that flat expression, her mind was a chaotic mess of thoughts she couldn’t voice. She was battling herself, fighting the urge to finally tear the curtain down and tell him everything. The truth about his memories, the fabricated timelines, the deliberate gaps. About the roles each of them played in this little “cosmic game” they were all stuck in. Her. Kafka. Firefly. And most importantly, him.
“I know you have a lot of questions about her,” Silver Wolf began, her voice losing that cocky tone, softening into something uncharacteristically serious. “And I don’t blame you for that. As much as I want to spill everything to you right now… I can’t.”
“Why not? Is it part of the script?” Caelus asked, a flicker of frustration breaking through the haze of weariness in his voice.
Silver Wolf nodded, almost ashamed.
“Yes,” she said simply, her voice nearly a whisper now.
He should be angry. Furious, even. One of the few people in the universe who could answer his questions, standing right in front of him, and she was choosing silence. Choosing to follow whatever invisible rules were laid out before them like puppets on a string. But the anger refused to surface. It was there, buried deep in his chest, burning like a dying star. But it wouldn’t come out. Not toward her.
“Don’t let your anger be bottled, Caelus,” Silver Wolf said quietly. “You have the right to be angry at us. At me.”
Caelus sighed, the sound heavy with pain and tired resignation.
“I know. I know I have the right to be angry with you all. But why can't I say it? Why can't I scream at you? Why do I look at you, and all I feel is… sadness?” His voice cracked at the end, the weight of everything beginning to catch up to him.
There was a long silence between them, only broken by the faint hum of machinery around them.
Silver Wolf looked away, hiding the guilt in her eyes.
“Because deep down, you still care about us,” she said. “Even if you don’t remember why.”
He cares about them? Was that the feeling he was getting whenever he encounters the Stellaron Hunters?
Caelus dropped his gaze to the floor. The emotions were clawing their way up from his gut, screaming to be let out. Grief, confusion, and longing. He clenched his fists, shoulders trembling slightly, not from anger but from restraint. He was scared. Scared of what he might remember. Scared of what he might already know but refused to accept.
And then, without warning, Silver Wolf stepped forward.
Her hands were cold against his chest as she pulled him closer, her petite form barely reaching his shoulders. Caelus's eyes widened in shock as she rose on her toes and pressed her lips against his in a sudden, fleeting kiss. It was soft, bittersweet, and gone before he could even register it properly.
“For the road,” she said casually, smirking just enough to mask the emotion in her eyes.
She turned away, ready to vanish back into the digital shadows she always came from, but paused at the door.
“Oh, and one more thing,” she added, glancing over her shoulder. “Firefly’s been looking forward to your reunion.”
With that, she was gone, leaving Caelus in stunned silence. His fingers brushed his lips, still feeling the ghost of hers. The name "Firefly" echoed in his mind, stirring something... familiar. Something warm. Something buried.
And maybe, just, maybe. That something was about to wake up.