All The Stars We See // muke

chapter four

"There's been an amazing discovery at the Academy, son. All yard duties have been put aside. School has been postponed until further notice. But, do show up Monday at your usual time, we have much to discuss once details have settled."

Luke watched as the voicemail ended and he sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. "I suppose I'm off for today and tomorrow." He announced and Michael looked up at him from his fortress of books and sheets.

"My, what wonderful stories these are. Are they true?" He asked and Luke furrowed his eyebrows as Michael looked back down at his novels and textbooks. "Were there once great beings named, how is it pronounced? Dee-no-source?"

"Dinosaurs," Luke corrected and the being apologized for his mispronunciation. "- and yes. Millions of years ago, sixty-six to be precise, they roamed the Earth until a meteor wiped their species out."

"They remind me of the monsacros. Powerful beings capable of intelligence that were wiped out with the heat of an erupted volcano." He told him and Luke sat down on his couch as he peered outside his window. "Much of the planet was destroyed in that disaster..."

"Was it long ago?" Luke asked and Michael looked up to the ceiling as he thought.

"Perhaps... um..." He looked down at his books before flipping through a dictionary that was tossed off to his left. "A year is... well my planet has longer centiaghes. If you take the three and carry the eight..."

Luke rose an eyebrow in amusement at his attempt to convert his planet's measurements into Earth's for his understanding. "Is a thousand years a lot?"

"Not at all."

"Oh," he murmured. "- well, neither on Astellea as well. The air is polluted with debris still, ruins are everywhere, but it's my home."

Luke understands. He knows that if his planet was in a war with itself, he too would still find it home despite it's burned edges and singed battlefield. Michael being such a big apart of the war too must have him feeling extra worrisome and homesick.

"What are you?" Michael asked and Luke was taken back. "I am a warrior, and you are..."

Luke threw his head back as he thought about what he could say he was. He did a lot of things at the Academy, and though his coworkers and students call him professor or officer, he wasn't exactly as qualified for either positions as the next person there. He wasn't quite a scientist either since they never let him in the rooms with ongoing experiments or test subjects, or even in the lab when they studied items. He wasn't an engineer either, or the custodian, or a pilot. He could say scholar, but even that was a bit stretched. He didn't regularly take his class as he was supposed to.

He was everything, but at the same time, nothing.

"I'm Luke." He answered and Michael nodded his head. "I'm a lot of things, I guess. Small parts of everything."

"A soldier?"

He shook his head. He could never see himself in such a way. He hates violence, and even if he was forcefully drafted into the war he knew he's fill a position of pilot or medic with his experience.

"A father?"

"On this planet, I would be considered too young to be a father." He debunked his guess. Not that he could be a father anyways.

Michael stared at him, and Luke felt that it was almost impossible to turn away from him. He was trapped in the other's eyes, a long and hard gaze that had his eyes glowing and the markings in his skin shimmer to life for only a split second in the blurred background around his sharpened irises. He smiled right after, and Luke felt his cheeks redden as he turned away — breathless.

"You are a educator." He answered and Luke felt his eyes widen as he stared at the wall. "You teach, but you don't like it."

"How did you -"

"- you are like this book." He took a textbook and placed it on his lap. "You want to be like this, closed, but you forget there are pictures that tell what's inside."

Luke decided in that moment that he officially didn't like whatever super power Michael had as a being from another planet. He hates knowing he could see inside of him like that.

"What? Can you read minds or something?" Luke snapped as he stood up, knocking the book off his lap.

"No... I just read your eyes. My cololeiis is my spirit, the essence of my being, but humans are so different. Your skin doesn't hold your soul, your eyes do. I can see it." Michael elaborated with a quiet voice. "That's how I know I angered you."

Luke felt his body freeze as he stood in his kitchen, only a sliver of his living room visible from his spot. He took a deep breath and then hung his head as he stared at the marble counter top, tracing the silver and gold lines in his head as he calmed his nerves and head. He had to collect himself and his scattered thoughts.

He wasn't mad.

After a moment, he sighed. Maybe he was just a little upset, but it was just because the last four years of his life was spent doing the same thing that he told himself everyday that he enjoyed. He wouldn't be doing it if he didn't enjoy it. He wouldn't work himself to the bome if he didn't want to do it. Yet here comes this man from a planet who knows where telling him that he hated his life like he knows him. What does he know? Nothing! He couldn't even pronounce dinosaurs.

"I am sorry." He heard and Luke felt a hand on his shoulder. He jumped out of his skin, immediately looking at the being as his colo-whatever it was called flashed a different color.

"I'm fine." He defended himself as he looked at the colored mark in his skin turn a shade almost ashy grey. "I'm not mad, really."

"You feel upset -"

"I'm not mad!" He repeated himself loudly as he slammed his fist against the counter top, immediately unclenching his fist and looking at his hand. "Just... drop it."

He didn't understand. Luke could see it in his face and feel it in his lack of reaction.

"Let it go. Don't talk about it. Leave it alone. Save it." He listed as he walked away and headed to the bathroom. "Don't bother. It's okay. It doesn't matter!"

"Where are you -"

"I need to use the restroom."

Michael nodded to himself, and Luke shut the door behind him as he ran his hands through his hair. He couldn't steady his breath, but he did a familiar exercise to try.

In — one and two and; Out — three and four and.

Again.

And again.

Suddenly he had his breaths under his own control and he pulled his hair as he stared at his fluffy, grey rug. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" He gasped as he slid his back against the dark brown wood until his bottom hit the tiled floor.

Michael was a soldier who probably has murdered others in war, and he just punched sand filled bags when he was too angry to deal with himself. This being could probably kill him blindfolded with a hand tied behind his back if provoked, and what was Luke doing? Provoking him.

Fucking stupid.

"You probably want to be alone," he heard on the other side of the door. "- and I respect that. I'm going to continue reading beneath the blanket. I am sorry."

Luke didn't reply, but he could hear Michael's footsteps against his hardwood floor as they quieted into nothing. One day and they already have tension between them, great.

1316 words