Archive of Our Own ^beta

The cold enveloped Stargazer like a second skin, a frigid cocoon woven from the very fabric of the void. His galaxy stretched endlessly around him- silent, vast, eternal- but it was distant now, as distant as the stars he once called home. He floated through it, curled in on himself, trying to escape the chill that gnawed at his insides, spreading through him like creeping frost. It was colder than he had ever felt, colder than the darkness that had been his companion. This was…different.

For as long as he could remember, he had been cold to the touch- cold to the heart, as unfeeling as the empty space between worlds. His very essence had been shaped by it, and in that frigid silence, he had found a strange kind of comfort. But now…now there was something wrong.

His gloved fingers trembled, the soft fabric of his gloves brushing his skin in a way that felt foreign. He felt…stiff, like a statue left out in the winter’s bite, frozen in time eternally. How had he not noticed it before? His limbs didn’t move as easily, his once-fluid motions slowed, every gesture stilted, unnatural. It was like his own body was rebelling against him, as if the cold was consuming him from within.

Is it the cold?

The thought lingered, but it was a question he was too afraid to answer. He peeled off his masquerade mask with fingers that seemed too slow,too heavy. The mask came away with a soft, muted sound, and the chill of the air kissed his bare face. His eyes- two voids where light dared not to venture, stared back at him from the reflection of a distant star. Black, endless, like the very abyss that had birthed him.

He looked at his hands, at the trembling fingers that struggled to close into a fist, at the stiff joints that resisted music. He flexed his palms, but the effort was sluggish, almost painful. His body had once been graceful, fluid in a motion, like starlight dancing across a dark sky. But now…now it was as though the weight of the cosmos itself had settled into his bones, and every movement felt like being dragged through a sea of ice.

Or is it something else?

The thought hovered at the edge of his mind, sharp and jagged, but he refused to let it settle.To acknowledge it would be to face the unbearable. To admit it would shatter the fragile mask of indifference he had so carefully constructed around himself.

He couldn’t do it. Not now.

Instead, he curled further into himself, pulling his knees tighter to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs as if the motion could somehow pull him out of the cold. His body became a tight knot, a fragile, trembling thing caught in the throes of its own decay. The stars around him flickered dimly, as though they too sensed the shift. They were no longer the comforting beacons they had once been. Now, they felt too distant, unreachable. The warmth of their light, once so familiar, now seemed like a memory he couldn’t quite grasp.

And so he buried the thought, pushing it back into the dark corners of his mind, where it would stay, locked away. For now, at least.

The cold would stay, and he would endure it, as he always had. Because it was all he knew.

But even as he hid from the truth, something inside him- a quiet, fragile whisper- told him that it wasn’t just the cold anymore. Something else was coming. Something more.

___

The Inpherno was alive with wind, though no breeze stirred its golden grass. It was a field of summer light stretched across eternity- an impossible plain caught between time’s heartbeat and the hush of something ancient. The grass here was warm, always warm, like fingers brushing skin. It whispered with memory.

And he was not alone.

Beside him, brilliance breathed.

Sunburst lay sprawled across the meadow like some half-forgotten deity of joy itself, arms flung wide as though he meant to embrace the sky itself. Light bled from him with every motion, golden and pulsing, radiant enough to sting. His laughter chased away shadows. His voice, animated and endlessly bright, carried through the still air like a song meant to wake the world.

Stargazer sat beside him, knees tucked to his chest, the grass curling against his cheeks like a lover’s whisper. He said nothing. He didn’t need to. The warmth of the earth seeped through his limbs- false comfort, perhaps, but comfort all the same.

And Sunburst…oh, Sunburst.

He could not look directly at him. Not for long. It wasn’t just the light, though that was part of it- the way Sunburst seemed made of solar flare and celestial flame, of radiant halos and laughter spun into gold. But there was something else. Something in the way Stargazer’s chest ached whenever he dared glance too long.

He listened, or pretended to. But his mind was far too loud, far too full of him. Of his sun, his impossibly bright, impossibly warm sun.

Words tumbled from Sunburst’s mouth like sunlight breaking through clouds. Stargaze did not catch them- could not. They scattered in the air, slipping past him like water through open hands. It didn’t matter. The sound was enough. It made the silence inside him a little less heavy.

Sunburst talked with his hands, with his whole body, energy woven into every motion. He turned, grinned, reached toward the sky, then let himself fall back into the grass like gravity had called him by name.

And Stargazer just watched.

Smiling,

Softy. Sadly.

As though memorizing every line of the other’s face, every flicker of gold behind his lashes, every freckle burned into sun-warmed skin. As though time was slipping through the seams of the world and he was afraid to blink.

Sunburst blinked first. His voice quieted, like a flame drawn in by the wind.

He turned his head and looked at Stargazer.

Really looked.

“...Hey,” he said, a little softer than before.”Pardon if it is..insensitive to ask, but is your light..dimmer lately?”

The question drifted out like smoke.

Stargazer’s smile didn’t falter. Not yet.

He looked down at his gloves, at the fine tremble in his fingers he hoped the other couldn’t see. Then he looked back up, gaze unfaltering, voice as calm as starlight when he said, “Maybe you’re simply getting brighter.”

Sunburst blinked. His cheeks flushed, skin blooming with a soft fire, a slow-spreading pink under the gold. And then- he laughed. A short, brilliant sound. The sun behind him flared, blazing high into the sky, as if answering a call only it could hear.

And Stargazer only smiled again, smaller this time. He said nothing more.

Because how could he?

What words were left for someone who had been falling from the stars for so long?

He tilted his head back, resting it in the grass, eyes drifting toward the sky now too bright to see. The sunlight soaked through him, pressing against his skin, reminding him- painfully- that he was still here. Still feeling.

For now.

Just a moment longer.

He didn’t want to think about what was coming. About what was already hollowing him from the inside out.

Let him love. Just like this. Quiet and nameless. Let him bask in this warmth he’d never deserve, even if the cold waited patiently behind every breath.

Let him have this.

Even if it’s only until the light fades.

___

Silence bloomed between them like a dying flower.

In the center of Stargazer’s galaxy, where light drifted as slow as breath and space coiled in gentle spirals, the two gods floated close but untouched. Time didn’t tick here- it exhaled, slow and syrup-thick, clinging to everything like stardust that wouldn’t fall.

They sat together in the cradle of the stars. No words yet. Just breath, just presence.

Stargazer’s knees were once again drawn to his chest, his body curled in the shape of a question he didn’t know how to ask. His hair hung in weightless threads, kissed by starlight, and his mask rested somewhere behind him, forgotten. His eyes- twin voids- held both the galaxy yet nothing at all.

Sunburst was beside him, all warmth and golden hum, his body aglow in a way that hurt to look at. His legs were crossed as if seated on invisible ground, though there was none. His light softened to match the hush of this space, wrapping around Stargazer’s form like a gauze- gentle, reverent.

Still, Stargazer didn’t look at him.

He didn’t need to.

He felt him.

The sun’s presence was unmistakable- he was gravity itself. Not in pull, but in inevitability. Every moment shifted around him.

“I used to think,” Sunburst finally began, his voice curling like sunlight through gauze, “that if there was a ceiling to the sky. Like…if I could just fly high enough, I’d hit the top of it, and it’d all fall around me like glass.”

He laughed, low and sheepish. “I was a naive child. I thought I could break the world open with my own two hands. Turns out, I was incapable of breaking my own stubborn streak.”

Stargazer didn’t answer. His silence was heavy, but not cold- not yet. Just quiet. Careful.

The words lapped against his skin like waves on a frozen shore. He let them wash over him, let them melt into the silence that lived in his chest.

But something inside him twitched.

He moved without thinking, gloved fingers slipping into the folds of his sleeve, where fragments of his essence hid away. Soft, dying echoes of what he once was.

He drew out a star.

It was small. Paler that it should’ve been. Not dead, but fading- like breath on glass, like a heartbeat underwater. He cupped it in his palm, cradling it like something fragile.

It pulsed once. Then dimmed.

Sunburst continued talking, his words distant now. Something about another memory, another musing, another laugh that cracked open the dark. Stargazer wasn’t listening. He couldn’t.

All he could think was: This is happening.

It’s happening.

He’s fading, isn’t he?

The quiet, creeping thought returned like a bruise aching beneath the skin.

The stars in him were falling. One by one.

He looked down at the fading light in his palm. A piece of himself. And still…he smiled.

Because beside him, Sunburst was glowing.

He was alive.

And Stargazer- he just wanted to feel alive too, even if it was just for now.

Even if it was only ever in the reflection of someone else’s shine.

He dared to glance at him. At Sunburst.

He was laughing at his own story now, one hand rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. A warm sound, bright and open. So mortal and beautiful in a way Stargazer could never quite be.

The contrast stung.

He can’t be the sky if he’s fading.

The words tumbled in his head like falling stars- unspoken and sharp. He curled his fingers around the star in his hand until it flickered out entirely.

What kind of sky doesn’t hold light?

What kind of god watches his stars die?

He could never be the sun’s sky- not like this.

Not when every breath felt borrowed. Not when even warmth was beginning to feel like memory.

Still…he remained beside him.

Still…he smiled.

Because being here, next to him, in this silence, in this slowness-

It felt like love.

Even if he didn’t deserve it.

Even if Sunburst would never feel the same way.

Even if he was vanishing by inches.

He let the silence settle again.

And this time, he didn’t try to fill it.

___

They were back in the Inpherno once more.

That same sun-swept plain, stretching endlessly in every direction like a memory made of warmth. The grass, soft as murmurs and vivid as firelight, waved lazily under the weightless breeze, brushing against their skin with reverent gentleness. Here, the wind spoke not in gusts but in sighs, as if reluctant to disturb the stillness settling between the two celestial beings.

Stargazer sat again, with his knees drawn to his chest, spine curled like a crescent moon, the fabric of his vest bunching at his shoulders. The mask that usually adorned his face once again lay discarded in the grass beside him, a pale, unreadable thing staring up at the sunless sky. His hair clung loosely to his brow, and his gloves hands pressed against his shins, as if trying to hold himself together.

Across from him, Sunburst lay on his back, golden limbs sprawled across the earth. He looked like something sculpted from brilliance- his hair spilled across the grass like liquid dawn, his chest rising and falling with slow measured care. He was radiant in the way of dying stars and prayers made real, glowing faintly even in stillness. The sun behind him hung suspended and low, bleeding into the horizon like honey over glass.

But something had shifted.

The quiet that once sat comfortably between them now felt tight, fraying at the seams. Sunburst had grown quiet, unusually so. No half-laughed stories or meandering monologues to fill the air. Only glances- stolen ones, lingering longer than they ought to. His gaze traced Stargazer like one might observe something fragile, or fading.

And Stargazer-

He basked in it.

Each glance lit something in his chest, something long chilled. It made him feel seen, warm, held- even if only by sunlight and suggestion. He tilted his head slightly, watching the sun god with softened eyes, his own voice silent but brimming with unsaid things.

Perhaps-

Perhaps his sun did feel the same.

The thought was delicate, dangerous. But beautiful.

Sunburst sat up.

His shadow stretched long behind him, cutting across the plain like a wound.

He hesitated, lips parted, eyes searching.

And then, gently, “Stargazer…are you dying?”

The world, for a moment, went still.

Stargazer didn’t breathe.

It was not the question itself that stunned him, but the way it was said- so carefully. So terribly soft, like the words might shatter if they fell too hard. As if Sunburst already knew the answer and was only praying for it to be wrong.

Stargazer’s heart cracked open beneath his ribs. The pieces were sharp.

He didn’t answer.

Sunburst stood, his sandals barely disturbing the grass. His hands trembled at his sides. He spoke again, firmer now.

“Tell me truly, are you dying?”

Stargazer looked at him slowly. His expression betrayed nothing- only the faintest curl of a smile at the corner of his mouth, like a smudge of starlight refusing to dim.

And then he laughed.

The sound was quiet, almost weightless. It felt like dust and denial, like a breath caught between truth and mercy. He wiped beneath one eye, though no tears had dared fall.

“Die?” he echoes, voice light as frost. “Don’t be absurd. Stars don’t die, Sunburst. They drift. That is all.”

Sunburst flinched.

And then he stepped forward and grasped Stargazer’s arm.

His fingers tightened, not cruelly, but with the desperation of someone who feared letting go would mean never finding again.

“You’re not drifting,” he said, voice low, trembling. “You’re vanishing. Piece by piece, I-” His throat bobbed with the weight of words. “I can feel it. The air around you is thinner. Your light…your light flickers.”

Stargazer’s smile wavered. Gently, he pulled his arm back, cradling it close as if the touch had left something behind.

“You fret too much,” he whispered, and looked down at the grass. “I would tell you, if I were fading. Truly, I would.”

Sunburst stood in silence.

His gaze bore into Stargazer’s side, full of suspicion, grief, hope- and the fear of what hope might cost.

Stargazer finally looked up, voids far away.

“Please,” he said, soft as falling ash, “just believe me. Even if only for now.”

His words rang with such earnestness, such desperation masked as calm, that Sunburst hesitated.

And then-

He nodded.

Not because he believed.

But because he wanted to.

Because sometimes love meant holding onto a lie with both hands and calling it faith.

And so he believed him.

Foolishly.

Tenderly.

As the sun dimmed just slightly behind him.

___

The stars moved slow tonight.

Or perhaps they always did, and Stargazer was only now noticing it. Time lost its meaning in a place like this- where gravity whispered instead of pulled, and silence wrapped around them like silk soaked in sorrow.

They floated among nebulas, their limbs half-lit by the scattered shimmer of a thousand distant galaxies. Stargazer’s body was turned toward Sunburst, just slightly- like a flower might lean unconsciously toward its sun. His silver lashes were lowered, the fingers of his incomplete arm loosely curled as if they too had grown tired of holding on. And still, the cold crept in. Not harsh or sudden, but a quiet thing. A betrayal of warmth. A fading.

Sunburst had grown brighter.

There was something ethereal about him in this light- his radiance casting delicate golden rings along the soft hollows of his cheeks, his voice warm and honey-sweet as he spoke. He rambled as he often did, words gentle and light-hearted, weaving stories out of nothing, laughing softly between thoughts. It should have been enough. It usually was.

But tonight…Stargazer could hardly listen.

He was watching instead- memorizing the tilt of his friend’s head, the way his laughter always lifted just a little too high near the end, like sunlight breaking through clouds. His warmth reached across the galaxy and brushed against Stargazer’s frozen frame. It never reached the core, of course. Nothing did anymore. But he pretended.

He always pretended.

There was a heaviness in him tonight, blooming beneath his ribs, like a black hole stretching wider by the hour. Perhaps it was foolishness, perhaps it was longing. But tonight, for a moment- just a fleeting one- he wanted more.

And so, Stargazer leaned a little closer. Not enough to break the space between them, but enough to feel the shift. He plucked another dying star from the folds of his own sleeve, the tiny thing flickering faintly in his palm like a final breath. He held it there, trembling slightly in the light.

“You know…” he said at last, quietly. The words came out slow, heavy with meaning. “If I were to vanish- truly vanish like you say, I think I would regret never saying what I’ve carried for so long.”

Sunburst turned to him with a curious, softened gaze. “And what is it you’ve carried, my friend?”

Stargazer smiled faintly, eyes still fixed on the little star. “That your light…has always made even the coldest corners of the universe bearable.”

There was silence.

Soft. Fragile.

Sunburst blinked, and Stargazer turned to look at him, gaze open now- unguarded in a way that hurt.

“I mean to say,” Stargazer added, voice dipped in something aching and raw, “you’ve always been more than just warmth to me. You’ve been…the axis my stars revolve around.”

He breathed in.

“I suppose what I’m trying to say is-”

“You are one of my dearest companions, Stargazer,” Sunburst interrupted, his voice lilting with warmth, but the kind that scalded now. “Truly, I can’t imagine this sky without you in it.”

Stargazer stilled.

The rest of his sentence vanished, scattered like ash into the vast dark. He closed his mouth slowly, his expression not pained, not surprised- but still. Just still. Like something inside him had stopped moving altogether.

Sunburst looked at him expectantly, then with concern.

“Did you…mean to say something else?” he asked, tilting his head, golden brows furrowing.

Stargazer gave a soft laugh- gentle, graceful, as if it cost him nothing. “No. That was all.”

He folded his hands, letting the tiny star slip from his palm, where it drifted down into the dark, fading before it could reach anywhere worthwhile.

“Forget it,” he said, voice low. “It’s not of consequence. You are my greatest companion too, Sunburst. In all my wanderings, in all the galaxies I’ve brushed past, I’ve never met another quite like you. And I’m grateful- deeply so- that I had the chance to know you.”

Sunburst flushed, startled by the tenderness. A bashful laugh left him, hand rising to scratch the back of his head. “You always say things like that with such…poetry. It’s not fair.”

Stargazer smiled, a real one, though it trembled faintly at the edges.

“It’s only ever been for you.” he murmured.

And that was the last thing he said for a long while, as they both drifted quietly beneath the stars.

___

The galaxy was quiet now.

Too quiet.

No laughter, no warmth, no golden voice drifting through the stars like morning wind. Just him. Just the hum of a dying cosmo, soft and distant like the fading notes of a forgotten lullaby.

Stargazer floated weightlessly in the void, legs drawn in slightly, arms wrapped around himself as though even now- especially now- he could pretend the cold hadn’t won.

But it had.

The cold seeped into every joint, every thought. His prosthetic limbs ached with phantom pain, the kind not even machines could numb. And inside, where once light had bloomed, now there was only the unbearable stillness of a star too weary to burn.

He didn’t cry. He couldn’t.

Stars didn’t cry. They collapsed.

With slow fingers, he reached into the folds of his sleeves, and pulled forth another one- another dying thing. A little star, barely pulsing, its glow weak and inconsistent like the heartbeats of something already halfway gone. It slipped from his hand before he could hold it close, falling into the depths beneath him.

Like the others.

Countless little lights had spilled from him in recent days- drifting through his sleeves, out into the galaxy, flickering out before they ever found orbit. They weren’t bright enough to warm anything. Not anymore.

He looked at his own ungloved hands now. Pale. Hollow. Empty.

He thought of Sunburst.

His sun.

So bright it hurt. So golden and effervescent that even Stargazer, with voids behind his eyes, could barely hold his gaze for long. And yet he had. Again and again, just to be near that warmth. To pretend- just pretend- for a heartbeat longer, that it was reaching him.

But today, not even the sun could thaw him.

Stargazer’s chest rose and fell in shallow silence. His breath barely stirred the space around him, like he was already fading from this plane, like the universe itself had begun to forest the shape of him. Maybe that was fair. Maybe that was fitting.

He had been selfish.

To believe, even for a second, that Sunburst could look at him and see more than a flickering shadow of a companion. That behind the gentle smiles and soft words, there might be something- something aching, something unsaid. But no. He had been foolish. Blind.

He was a dying star.

Sunburst was the sun.

He should’ve been grateful- he was grateful- that he had ever been seen at all. That someone like him had gotten to stand even for a moment near something so radiant.

His back arched faintly as another wave of cold pierced his chest, but he made no sound. There was no one to hear him, and even if there was- he would not trouble his sun with such ugliness.

His body trembled, not with fear but with quiet resignation.

He was unraveling.

It no longer came in pieces, but in strand now- threads of light slipping out of him like smoke from a dying fire, spiraling upward toward the stars he could no longer reach.

Still, he smiled. Just faintly.

He thought of Sunburst’s grin, the way he flushed when flustered, the way he said Stargazer had a way with words, not knowing those words had only ever been written for him.

And so, Stargazer- alone in the cold, hollow embrace of his galaxy- closed his eyes and whispered, not to the stars, but to something greater. Something beyond.

“...Please.”

His voice was paper-thin. Cracking.

“Let me die near the sun. Just near him. Even if I am not able to shine…just let me feel warm. One last time…”

And then, there was silence again.

Except this time, it wept.

___

The Inpherno plain was quiet in a way that didn’t sit right with Sunburst.

Not because something was wrong- at least, not in any way he could put his finger on- but because it was missing something. Someone.

The grass still rippled like silk beneath the wind. The sky was a cloudless canvas, blue and unbothered. The sun, his sun, hung high above in a crown of light- but somehow, it all felt dull.

Sunburst sat with his arms wrapped loosely around his knees, staring out over the endless horizon. Alone. Not the usual kind of alone, not the peaceful solitude he often found meditative.

No- this was the kind that made his thoughts wander.

And they wandered, as they always did lately, to him.

Stargazer.

A name that made his chest ache gently in ways he didn’t understand yet.

He had been worried, of course. There was something about the way Stargazer had looked at him, the heaviness that settled behind his words, the ghost of something unspoken haunting his silences. Sunburst noticed- he always noticed- but he hadn’t pushed.

Because…well, Stargazer would tell him. He would, right? That’s what friends did. That’s what they were.

Friends .

He told himself like a prayer.

Still, his eyes found the skies above. The same place Stargazer had come from. The same place he likely was now- drifting among galaxies, his suit brushing against stars like a painter through constellations.

Sunburst leaned back slightly, arms now braced against the ground behind him as he let his gaze soften.

He thought about the way Stargazer’s voice dropped when he was thoughtful, how it always sounded like something meant to be whispered in libraries or written in letters and left under pillows. The way his hair shimmered like starlight, his mask always prim and proper yet still was able to show a smile- but he was never able to read it fully.

And the way he made him feel- safe. Seen.

Loved?

Sunburst’s heart skipped a beat. He blinked again, as though trying to erase the thought by sheer will.

No, no. That wasn’t- it couldn’t be- he was just fond of him, wasn’t he? Affectionate, close. He admired Stargazer’s kindness, the grace in his movements, the quiet way he always listened so intensely. That was just…

Just…

He inhaled sharply.

His face burned. And for once, it had nothing to do with divinity.

The warmth that climbed his cheeks was something new, something not divine, not holy, but deeply human. His hands trembled slightly as he covered his face, muffling the embarrassed, confused sound that slipped from his throat.

“Oh…”

It was soft. Stupidly soft.

He loved his friend.

No. He was fond of his friend. No. Wait. He-

Stars above.

He cared for Stargazer in a way that didn’t fit neatly into the word ‘friend’ anymore. He had unknowingly let the light of realization bloom into him like sunrise- and now it had broken past the horizon, it refused to go back.

Sunburst fell back into the grass entirely, eyes wide, staring at the clear sky above like it had just told him a terrible secret.

He couldn’t believe it.

He was…in love with his only friend.

And he wasn’t ready for what that might mean.

___

He could no longer move.

Even the simplest gestures- lifting a hand, shifting his haze, had become herculean. His limbs ached with cold, not the sharp bite of winter, but a slow, gnawing chill that seeped from marrow into his soul. It wasn’t the kind of cold that froze; it was the kind that emptied.

Stars slipped from him like tears, trailing from the sleeves of his suit in weary arcs. They tumbled into the void, dim and dying, their light barely enough to be called flickers. Once, they would’ve burned with brilliance, eager to soar at his command. Now, they fell like remnants. Spent. Forgotten. Unloved.

And still, Stargazer simply…watched.

He lay adrift within his own endless galaxy, cradled by a cradleless void, with only silence to keep him company. His eyes, heavy-lidded and hollow, remained fixed upon the canopy of scattered stars above, trying to trace meaning in their constellations, searching for something- anything to hold onto.

But there was nothing left to hold.

The universe, once vibrant beneath his fingertips, had gone numb. His command over it faded with each breath he failed to take, each heartbeat that stuttered and slowed. Even the stars recoiled from him now. Once, they would have danced. Now, they dared not drift too close, as if his decay might be contagious.

It was not fear that gnawed him, now despair. It was something more fragile.

It was regret.

In the hush of the cosmos, memories stirred.

Sunburst’s voice, warm and rambunctious, filled with the quiet of his mind. Not with profound truths, not with declarations of love or meaning- but with chatter. Ceaseless chatter. About the shape of clouds. The brightness of certain flowers. How light refracted from rain. How grass always looked greener when he was excited.

And Stargazer had listened to every word like it was the dawn itself.

He hadn’t cared what the topic was. He had only cared that it was him. That Sunburst spoke, unafraid and unfiltered, his voice brushing against Stargazer’s mind like morning rays over frostbitten skin. That warmth had always seemed endless. That voice had filled in all the empty spaces.

How he longed to hear it again.

Even now.

Even if he wasn’t certain he could anymore.

His fingers twitched against his chest, frail and slow, as another star slipped free from his ribs. His hands trembled with the effort of simply being.

The stars did not weep for him.

But he…he did.

Softly. Quietly. A tearless grief.

“I…” The word left his lips like a breathless sigh, carried into the void. “I miss him.”

There was no one to hear. Not in this place. Not here, at the frayed edge of existence.

He curled slightly, what little strength he had pulling him into himself like a star folding inward.

His thoughts, fragile and trembling, returned to Sunburst once more. To his voice, his light, the smile that made the galaxy seem a little less vast, a little less cruel.

And even now- even now- he smiled.

Faint, wistful, aching.

He reached into the emptiness of what remained of his heart and offered it to the silence.

“Please,” he whispered again, eyes barely open, “just let me die near the sun.”

Let the last thing he felt be warmth. Let the final light he knew be golden and blinding. Let the echo of that voice wrap around him one final time, and if he were to crumble- if he were to finally fade into silence- then let it be in the light of the one he loved.

Let it be in the warmth.

Let it be near his sun.

___

Sunburst was still alone on the plain, the quiet of the Inpherno stretching far into the horizon. His mind was filled with thoughts, swirling and complex, but there was a new clarity behind his gaze- determination. He would figure this out. Whatever it was that haunted Stargazer, whatever was making his…friend withdraw, he would find a way to reach him. He wouldn't let his only companion slip away.

His eyes narrowed toward the sky, searching for any sign, any hint of the dimness that had unsettled him before. His breath drew in, steadying his pulse as he readied himself to confront whatever was wrong.

But before he could gather his thoughts, something brushed against his cheek.

It was a gentle touch, delicate even, like a whisper against his skin. He blinked, surprised by the soft sensation, and instinctively lifted a hand to his face. There, perched on the bridge of his nose, was a small, dying star.

His heart skipped.

The star flickered faintly, weak and fading, struggling to hold its shape in the vastness of the universe. His fingers, trembling, cautiously cupped it. He could feel the heat of it, but it wasn;t the same warmth he’d known before. It was cold, flickering weakly like the dying embers of a once-bright flame. He stared at it in confusion.

And then, it vanished.

Gone, as though it had never been.

Sunburst’s breath hitched in his throat. He froze for a moment, still holding his hand outstretched in the empty air. His eyes darted upward, searching the sky once more.

His heart raced.

Stars. They were falling- falling- from the sky. Hundreds of them. Thousands. Like droplets of light that had once been steady and firm, now breaking apart and spilling into the fields around him.

They scattered across the grass, their feeble glow flashing as they flickered in and out of existence, a chaotic dance of dying light. Some tumbled gently, others fell with speed and force. He could hear them hitting the earth like glass shattering, soft at first, then louder, sharper, as the stars collapsed into nothingness.

His hand, still outstretched, trembled violently. The one star he had held in his palm had slipped free, dropping away in utter shock. His mind raced, wild and frantic. No. This isn’t right-

His eyes frantically scanned the sky, watching as more stars, countless stars, spilled from heavens, their once bright and burning glow now fading into darkness.

Stargazer.

The name echoed in his mind, like a thunderclap, resounding in the silent air. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.

Sunburst’s heart thudded painfully in his chest, the weight of fear crashing over him in waves. He took a hesitant step back. Eyes wide as the field around him grew littered with stars, their faint light quickly snuffed out by the unrelenting void. He could feel it- Stargazer was fading.

His friend- his only companion- was slipping away.

No, Sunburst thought, his pulse pounding in his ears. He couldn’t let this happen. He refused to let this happen. He couldn’t- he wouldn’t lose Stargazer like this, not after everything.

But as he stood there, frozen, a harsh truth began to settle in his chest. The stars- those dying lights- weren’t falling because of the void.

They were falling because of Stargazer.

And the realization hit him like a gust of wind. This is what he’s been hiding from me.

The thought sent a wave of panic through him. How long had Stargazer been suffering in silence, so cold, so distant, his stars flickering out one by one? How long had Sunburst been blind to the truth, trusting that his companion would speak when he needed help?

But Stargazer hadn’t spoken. He hadn’t said a word.

And now…

Now, the stars were falling. His stars. Dying with each passing moment.

The ground beneath his feet trembled, as though the earth itself was trembling at the loss of light. His hand clenched into a fist, and for the first time, Sunburst realized just how helpless he was. He had no power over this. He couldn’t stop it.

He couldn’t stop Stargazer.

His mind swirled with desperate thoughts. He could feel his pulse racing, the taste of cold dread spreading through him. The dying stars around him seemed to reflect his heart. Please. The thought was silent, but the plea was desperate.

He knew.

He knew.

Stargazer was slipping away.

And Sunburst, for all his light, was powerless to reach him.

___

Stargazer lay motionless in the cold expanse, his form flickering in and out of existence like a dying ember struggling to hold onto the last of its life. The infinite stretch of the universe yawned around him, indifferent to his suffering. He had become one with the vast emptiness, the nothingness that whispered his name in its cold embrace. Stars spilled from his body, falling like dying embers, each one a fragment of himself that slipped through the cracks of the world and vanished into the void.

His chest, once full of fire, was hollow now, as hollow as the stars that burned out and scattered far beyond reach. He could feel his existence unraveling, the weight of time pressing down on him until he could barely keep his eyes open. Every flicker of light within him was a painful reminder of what he had lost- or well, was losing. The warmth. The light. Sunburst.

He had known all long that his prayers were hopeless, that the warmth he so desperately sought would never return. Still, he had begged. He had wished with every broken piece of his being that perhaps, just this once, the universe might answer his cry for comfort. But no. It never answered.

It was selfish, he thought. It was selfish to think he deserved even that. Sunburst had his own path to walk. A path far brighter than the dimming light that now pulsed through his fragile body. A path where Stargazer was just a fleeting shadow- something not meant to be part of the brilliance that was Sunburst.

But now, in these final moments, he could only smile- a quiet, sad smile- as his body gave way to the inevitable. He closed his eyes, too weak to hold them open, feeling the universe slip away, piece by piece, as he let the darkness consume him. The world faded. The stars slipped. His soul dimmed.

Then- then something happened.

A warmth surged through him, sudden and pure, unlike anything he had felt in ages. It wrapped around him like a blanket of light, cradling him in the gentlest of embraces. A burst of heat so rich and alive that it cut through the icy grip of the void. A presence. Sunburst.

Stargazer’s eyes snapped open, though they felt heavy, like stones in a stream. He blinked in confusion, but there, standing before him, was Sunburst- panting, frantic, his face flushed with panic. His eyes were wide, filled with tears that fell in warm streaks down his cheeks, burning like molten lava. He was shaking, his whole body trembling as he leaned over Stargazer, his hands gripping him as if he could somehow hold him together.

“I hate you,” Sunburst’s voice cracked, raw with emotion. “You lied to me. You lied about everything! You-” His words choked off, and he fell silent for a moment, his breathing erratic as he tried to steady himself. The words spilled out again, tumbling over each other like rocks falling down a cliff. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you let me help? You shouldn’t have to go through this alone. I should have known, Stargazer!”

Stargazer’s heart trembled in his chest. The pain was so sharp that it felt like his very being was unraveling at the seams. It was too much, too much to bear, and yet, even in this moment, a part of him was so glad, so grateful that Sunburst had come. His gentle, kind, beautiful friend. The only one who had ever seen him- really seen him.

“I…I didn’t want to burden you,” Stargazer whispered, his voice weak and trembling, barely a thread. His hand, shaking and slow, reached up to touch Stargazer’s cheek. “You have your own light to follow…your own path to walk. I couldn’t keep you from here…keep you from your sky.”

Sunburst shook his head, his tears falling faster now, mingling with the void beneath them. His hands clutched Stargazer tighter, as if he was trying to hold him together, to anchor him in this moment, but Stargazer was already slipping away.

“You are my sky,” Sunburst breathed, his voice broken and raw. “Don’t you get it? You always were. You always will be.” His hand reached up to grasp Stargazer’s, his fingers trembling against the coldness of his skin. “I’ve been a fool,” Sunburst continued, his own voice cracking as the weight of his own revelation crushed him. “A fool for not seeing it sooner. I-” His voice faltered, and he pulled Stargazer closer, desperate to make the other feel his warmth, his love. “I love you.”

The words hit Stargazer like a thunderclap in the sky. His breath caught in his throat, his entire world crumbling beneath him. Sunburst- had he really said it? Had he truly felt it? The thought was too much for Stargazer to bear, the revelation flooding him with emotions he had long since buried deep inside. He had never allowed himself to hope, to dream of this moment, because he had feared it would break him.

But now, in the face of this confession, all he could do was weep- quiet, silent tears that slipped from his mask, mingling with the ones Sunburst had shed.

Stargazer raised a weak, trembling hand to press against Sunburst’s chest. His fingers hovered over Sunburst's heart, feeling the warmth radiating from him, the pulse of life that he could never truly touch.

“I…don’t want to go,” Stargazer whispered, his voice barely a breath. “But I have to. Please…” His lips trembled as he smiled softly, a fragile, aching smile that could have torn apart the universe if given the chance. “Let me go. But please, don’t forget me.”

Sunburst’s eyes widened in horror as something shifted, something began to form within. Beneath his skin, something shimmered. A soft, glowing light, small but bright. It pulsed steadily with every beat of his heart, a gemstone implanted in his chest, glowing with the very essence of Stargazer. A part of him.

“No,” Sunburst sobbed, shaking his head violently, his hands trembling as he held Stargazer’s face in his hands. “No, you can’t-”

“I will always be with you,” Stargazer whispered, his voice growing softer, weaker. “Even if I fade…I’ll always be here. In your sky.” His hands reached up with what little strength he had left, and he cupped Stargazer’s cheeks in trembling palms. His lips parted, and despite the overwhelming pain, he leaned forward, pressing a soft, fragile kiss to Sunburst’s lips.

It was everything- everything Stargazer had ever wanted. The kiss was soft, tender, filled with love, and yet so deeply sorrowful. Sunburst kissed him back, his sobs muffled against Stargazer’s lips, his tears falling into the kiss like an eternal rain. He pulled away slowly, his breath ragged, his heart breaking into a thousand pieces.

“I love you,” Sunburst whispered again, but it was too late.

Stargazer’s body grew limp in his arms, his head falling back, his hands slipping from Sunburst’s face as his body surrendered to the cold embrace of death. His eyes closed gently, his smile still soft, still peaceful.

And with that final, fragile exhale, Stargazer faded. The cold, the light, everything that had once been Stargazer, crumbled away like dust caught in the wind. His body disintegrated into the galaxy, scattering across the vast, endless expanse, his final trace mingling with the stars.

And Sunburst, his heart shattering with each tear that fell, cradled the empty space where Stargazer had been. Even in death, Stargazer was beautiful. Even in death, he would always be the one star Sunburst could never reach.

___

The sun never shone as brightly again. The once golden rays of warmth, which had once caressed his skin like the tender touch of a lover, now hung cold and distant in the sky. It seemed as though the heavens themselves had dimmed in mourning, casting a pale light upon the world below.

Days shortened, their light faltering as if reluctant to depart, leaving an eerie stillness in their wake. The nights grew longer, colder, stretching like endless voids that swallowed up the last remnants of warmth. The stars, too, appeared less brilliant, their twinkling flickers no longer as vibrant as they had once been. The universe had lost something it could never regain.

In the vast expanse of the plains where once laughter and warmth had lived, now only silence reigned. Sunburst sat there, motionless, his frame fixture among the barren field. His knees drawn tightly to his chest, his arms wrapped around them with a fierce grip, as if to hold himself together. His head was bowed low, and the soft grass beneath him felt like nothing more than a cruel reminder of what he had lost.

The breeze, which had once carried the sweet scent of life, now blew through the field with a hollow sound, a mere whisper that passed through him like a ghost.

His hand, trembling, rested against the gemstone embedded within his chest- a glowing relic of Stargazer. The light it emitted was faint now, dim and flickering, as though even the memory of Stargazer was slowly unraveling, fading into the dark corners of his heart. But the pain, the ache in his chest, was all too real. The loss was not something he could ignore, no matter how hard he tried.

Tears streaked down his face- silent, endless. The sobs that wracked his body had long since become a familiar rhythm, though they did nothing to soothe the burning emptiness that gnawed at him. He had failed him. Those words had never stopped echoing in his mind. He had been too blind, too slow. Too consumed by his own ignorance to realize the truth of his feelings until it was too late. And now, in the quiet, with nothing but the sound of wind to witness his despair, he could only regret the time he had wasted.

His gaze drifted upwards, but the sky above him no longer held the same beauty. The clouds, once soft and comforting, now seemed heavy with grief. The stars, those eternal pinpricks of light, no longer felt like the symbols of hope they once had. They were simply distant, untouchable specks in the infinite dark. They felt unreachable, just as Stargazer had become.

I was too late, he thought again, the words cutting through him like a blade. I should’ve told you. I should’ve known. But how could he have known? How could he have known that the brightness he so desperately clung to- the one thing in this dark world that made sense- could be taken from him so cruelly?

His fingers tightened around the gemstone as if to hold on to the last fragment of the one he had loved. But even this did not ease the pain. No, it only reminded him of the brutal truth- that Stargazer was gone, and with him, the warmth that had once filled Sunburst’s world had disappeared, leaving behind only cold shadows.

I need you, he thought, though he knew it was a thought that could never reach the one he had lost. I need you here. I need you to guide me through this.

But no answer came. The winds howled mournfully, but there was no warmth in it. The stars twinkled far above, distant and indifferent.  Sunburst closed his eyes, clutching the gemstone closer in his chest as if trying to will some other piece of Stargazer into him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible over the wind. The words felt hollow, lost in the vast emptiness that surrounded him. “I never got to truly tell you. I should’ve told you…” His voice cracked on the last word, as if even saying it was too much, too painful.

The weight of everything settled upon him once more- his failure, his loneliness, his longing. The universe around him seemed to close in, the stars no longer bright enough to light his path, no longer warm enough to heal him. It was as if everything had turned a shade darker, a shadecolder, since the moment Stargazer had slipped away.

His body trembled as the sobs came harder now, the deep pain of loss flooding him until he could hardly breathe. I never got to tell you, he thought desperately. I never got to tell you how much I really, really loved you.

And yet, as the tears fell endlessly from his eyes, Sunburst couldn’t help but wonder: Would it have been enough? Would it have been enough to save him? Or had he already lost Stargazer long before he realized the truth of his heart?

The world felt impossibly empty now, like a painting with no colors, a symphony with no sound nor musician. He was alone. And as the wind howled through the desolate field, Sunburst could only sit there, his heart heavy with grief, his body trembling in the absence of the one who had been everything to him.

He wished for a miracle, for the stars to bend and give Stargazer back to him. Just once more, please. But the universe was silent.

There was no answer, only the endless, aching void of loss.