Rhapsody

constellations: ursa major

the twenty-eighth night.
12:24 p.m.

you're late.

i'm sorry.

pant, pant. rio must've
ran all the way here.
but i stare at him coldly and refuse to sympathize.

i'm sorry. really. he wouldn't
let me out.
i had to steal a key.

okay.

he can tell she doesn't believe him:
even the truth, she won't believe anymore.
he can't blame her.

come on, aer, just -

you said you'd planned something for tonight?

i interrupt him for the first time.
he's slightly shocked by the fact - his mouth hangs open
for a few seconds.
then he snaps his jaw shut.

yeah. let's go.

he doesn't ask me to come with him,
but i follow anyways.
(as always.)

he still takes my hand and laces
our fingers together.
i wonder why.

i still can't believe you didn't know what the great bear was.

no reply.

he sighs. he sounds irritated.
well, that's a first.
so i've finally managed to break through
that stupid happy poker face of yours,
haven't i?
i think to myself.

it's famous.
well, anyways, look up there.

not there, where i'm pointing.

well, i'm sorry. it's
a different view for everyone.

not for us, if you'd listen to me...

that sounded a bit
strange - not like the
smartass retort he would've come up with,
usually.

what?

nothing.

i take my hand away from his.
he scowls at the big dipper.

well, anyways.
the big dipper. most people think
it's a constellation,
but it's just an asterism.
a pattern of stars.
sometimes they're part of a constellation,
sometimes they're not.

just like how you're sometimes honest with me,
and sometimes not?

i don't say good-night
and neither does he.

he didn't know how big of a mistake that would be.