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curabitur

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「dear selenophile.」


THE MOON IS ALWAYS THERE WHEN EVERYONE ELSE IS NOT. a silent watcher in the sky, it accompanies [y/n] as she quietly peels back her covers, wincing when the wooden planks underneath her slippers groan and squeak under her weight. the events that had happened two days ago still buzzed around in her head, a giddy smile worming its way across her face and tugging on her cheeks. 

mimi would be coming back tomorrow, with a whispered promise to try and convince her mom to get [y/n] a phone. how cool would that be? then, they could still talk to each other even when mimi wasn't visiting!

she sighs contentedly, plopping down in her swivel chair to spin around, around and around with her feet pushing off of the floor below. 

her life soars. 





Dear selenophile,

I'm not one to judge, but you seem like the sort of dude who sits inside writing poetry while listening to either Panic! At the Dance Floor or Lo-Fi study playlists/café or rain music. No judgement, cuz along with cute pet videos and baking shows, that's what my Y'allTube search history is :D

you're lucky, because wherever you go you always have a friend with you. that bird-shadow that has a mind of its own. although I guess it can get annoying sometimes, not having your own peace and quiet, it's still better than always being shut up in one place, in solitude, with no one to talk to. 

but then again, you probably like your silence. 

I'm not saying that's a bad thing or anything—I hardly even know you, and I'm just imagining everything, writing letters to people who won't ever read them, escaping the boring life I lead by inserting myself into yours. 

But enough about me. I bet, if you were reading this, you'd wonder why I addressed you as "Selenophile" and not your actual name (hey congrats on third place in the Sports Festival, by the way). 

A selenophile is someone who loves the moon. 

I'd imagine you are, and I know I am. The moon is the lesser of the two great objects in our sky, the greater being the sun. The moon has to revolve around us every day, endlessly, tirelessly. I feel bad sometimes. 

So I like to get up at night sometimes, when Rokku is asleep, and just talk with the moon and keep it company. Because that's what it does for all of the sleepless, for all of the lonely, for those that wander and those that are lost. I figured I should return the favor, because someone should—has to. 

What's scarier than the night is the night without a moon. 

......

ok that just got weirdly poetic im terrified now

uh,

well then. but its not like being poetic is bad? you're poetic looking. and you're fucking awesome. so maybe being brooding and mysterious is fucking awesome. yeah. that makes sense. 

I wrote this in pen and I kinda don't want to scratch anything out because that's messy. fuckin shit. ah, crap Rokku hates it when I swear. 

she's gonna kill me if she reads this. 

hm. wait, but she isn't. she isn't going to read this or anything, because she doesn't know these letters exist! that's weirdly freeing, a sensation of swimming through clouds and the spilt ink dotted with flecks of glitter some child dropped into the sky. a sensation of running barefoot through a meadow of soft green grass and tiny swaying flowers, a sea of calm beneath your toes. 

Ah! I have to go to sleep now, or else Rokku's gonna kill me if I wake up late tomorrow. I may not go outside at all, but I still have to go to school. By school, I mean a pile of worksheets on the kitchen counter. 

why is life so complicated? I think you'd know. you seem like a smart bird-guy. 


from, [y/n]



p.s: (but you know what would be called free and not-complicated?

if I got to go outside, just once.) 

p.p.s: nah, what am I saying? I take it back. 

think happy thoughts about tomorrow! about mimi's visit tomorrow! about the promise of a phone made maybe tomorrow! about raindrops on rooftops and perfectly spread jam and crisp white tablecloths and smooth ink from pens, not about things out of reach and things that won't happen. 

p.p.p.s: alright last thing im going to actually go to bed I swear on my All Might poster: 

if you were me and hypothetically had a chance to go outside—no, teleport anywhere in the universe for one second, where would you go?




***

A/N: sorry about the short chapter! I've neglected this book for a while so I had a bit of trouble with picking the flow back up again. but, now I've got a clear idea of where things are gonna go so this small night chapter was just to set up when [ERROR]

also, if you notice I didn't use any of the weird script stuff at the beginning. for those who've been staring at boxes so they won't have to stare at boxes anymore. 

toodles ;)

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