Menewsha Avatar Community - The Short Writings of Arakni

Falling for the Moon

Every night, it was the same. I would step outside, away from the glow of my roommate’s television, away from the glare of the streetlights out on the road, and sit down on the balcony. It was never quiet- but then again, I never needed it to be. The noise of the cars below could hardly compare to what I felt each time I turned my eyes skyward.

Because when I looked up, out into the deep blue of the night sky, there was only one thing I could see. The man. The man who sat up there, who waited all day to rise up and watch the whole world with his gentle eyes, and then just smiled down on us all.

I liked to think that the man watched me the most.

He never said a word, that pale, pale man, but when he smiled at me, I knew exactly what he meant. My heart pounded in my chest, my face flushed with heat, and I held my arm out, reaching for him way up there. He always reached back, but though our fingers came so close, so close, we couldn’t touch. His eyes flashed with something I knew was disappointment, because I could feel it too.

Sometimes, I would become desperate to touch him, and I would lean over the edge of the balcony, ignoring the five story drop, ignoring the horns of the cars passing by below. But his smile would vanish, replaced with a line of concern and he would shake his head in a silent no. It always stopped me.

I grew accustomed to simply being able to watch him, to watch him while he watched me. His eyes were just as pale as his skin, and so was his hair. He looked so soft, so delicate, and I knew that somehow, I needed to feel him. Would he feel as he appeared?

The desire overcame me one night, once I had closed the door behind me, blocking out my roommate’s television once again. I needed to touch that pale man up in the night sky. He knew. I could see the worry in his eyes, in the tightness of his mouth, but I had made up my mind. A wordless no would not have stopped me that night.

I reached over the balcony, leaning dangerously out into the open air. He hesitated, but reached out for me as well. Our fingers still would not touch. Without thinking, I lifted one leg over the railing, then the other. My toes just barely held on to the edge of the balcony.

His mouth thinned even more, and the worry in his eyes increased. His head shook quickly from side to side; no. I simply repeated the gesture. My arm stretched out further, further… I should have been able to touch him by then. Angry and wanting, I let go of the railing.

The fact that I was falling didn’t even faze me. All I could see was his face- terrified, desperate. His lips parted, and out came the single most beautiful sound I have ever heard.

“No!”

It was like the tinkling of bells, or the wind whistling through the trees. Even as the ground drew nearer, I smiled up at him. I had heard his voice. I could die in peace. And I closed my eyes, waiting for the end to come.

But the ground was not hard as I had expected. It was soft and warm. I opened my eyes slowly, and there he was. He looked angry and joyful and helpless, all at the same time. It was his arms that were holding me, and they were exactly as I had imagined. I reached up to touch his face, and he leant into the touch. “Idiot,” came his soft whisper.

I just smiled and reveled in the fact that I was touching him. His hair tickled my skin. “What now?” I asked quietly.

“We go home.” And he held me gently, delicately, as if I was a fragile doll, and we lifted up into the air.

I never heard the sound of my roommate’s television again.