With the saffron stone next to her, the girl sat in uncertainty, clutched by the worlds cruel confines and hurting deeply from the arrows thrust into her heart. Her breath caught in her throat, her words refused to leave, she was endlessley choked by the terrible shackles of reality. Those children played in their humble abode, eyes glistening with the ecstatic embrace of the burning sun that hit their backs gently and burned joy into their veins. Ignorance, stupidity, utter bliss came naturally to them sickeningly.
Oh, how she envied them.
Figurative stone tips attatched to finely carved wood were lodged deeply into the cold niche of her chest, pulsating from that one spot and constantly reminding her of the betrayal that fate had thrown onto her. Iridescent light of the day hit her, making her blink in agony. She closed her eyes, and as far as the world was concerned, the girl with the garnet aura was sleeping. The moon had laid down in her hilltop bed.

She looked like she was barely hanging on.
So the sun's footsteps carried on across the emerald cascade, crunching on the gravel until they hit cool grass and made the girl open her little azure chasms. She kneeled down, trying her hardest to be at eye level.
They had nothing in common. But the moon was crestfallen. The moon was alone.
Illusions are what come when the moment is looked back on. Bittersweet fantasies sweep them off their feet, and in their heads, everything is surreal. The simple conversation flowing everlastingly from her mouth takes the form of actions that flutter through their heads like fireflies at midnight. Cool hands grasp those arrows and yank them from the base of her body, burnt eyes save her life and suddenly all is golden. In the flashbacks, no words are spoken, eyes say all that needs to be said.
Would it be alright if we just sat and talked for a little while?
The shrapnel of a fourth grade arsenal was still clanking around in her blood, a dahlia shroud making her intimidating to the sun and sending her into a state of oblivion she thought was no more plausible than what she had felt before. Her heart did not open, it remained coated in alabaster tides of ice that washed at the shores of her mind and chilled the Sun to her core with the mere sight of the Moon's true nature.
If in exchange for your time, I give you this smile...?
No idea what the Moon had seen. Standing like a sentinel, prose echoed through her ears. That smile could heal a nation, it could make even the most frigid numbness thaw out and burn with passion. Like the light was all the moon had, she struck her heart with the last match.
That's okay as long as you can make a promise not to break my heart.
Place all your bets and watch me lose.
Coming out of her shell was the hardest part. Hands touched and eyes met in a swirl of blueberry and chocolate, contrasting in such a way that everything turned to honey and the sky painted everything around them in near-liquid gold. Denim dreams, credulous air mixing with steaming intensity. The two took a ride in the churning cauldron of summer's embrace. Warm water pooled aorund their minds and hearts as they sunk to the bottom with heads whirring and sloshing around in solitude.

The sun's words through the years were subtle, but meaningful... dipped in amber and sweet like snowflakes, fragments falling on the moon's rash tongue like pixie dust. Every day, her poisoned core began to reshape itself into something eminently human. That same humanity beckoned from partly demon eyes, everlasting and free.
Cool shades of burnt sienna were all that kept the Moon alive. Awakening every morning drowned in covers, she squinted and struggled to brace the harshness of the rainy days and watch life go on. Vivid dreams became crushed by the weight of her own fears... but those eyes saved her soul from losing its last shread of sanity.
That pristine hole where a metaphorical weapon had once loomed still burned and ached.
It didn't leave.
Neither did that instance when the day met the night.
It stayed in the Moon's mind and refused to let itself slip out to the back of her head where it would sit around dying with the other memories that began decomposing ages ago. Everything about that was so uncertain and so new to the Moon--yet still, all seemed so omnipotently golden in their skies when they were together. Fleeting colloquiums formed whenever they seemed to get a moment alone, discussions that never faltered and made the Moon grow gentle in disposition, her fierce loyalty growing like moss on the Sun's beauty. Unwavering, she stood by the moon in a way no one could expect from the two.
The Sun's image was minted into her heart where that arrow had once been.
Life was on their tongues, and it tasted heavenly.
There was a reason day and night existed perpetually apart. Mankind's fear had overtaken all in the world--what happens if people sleep in the day? Awaken at night? We dream our dreams in such strict ways... the moon and the sun could never share the same sky because of fright.


No one knew that all would undergo a brilliant metamorphisis into auriferousness when the day finally met the night.