#centauri
international cut your hair like your icon day how screwed are you
Oh man, there is no hairdo more gloriously, iconically weird than the Centauri updo, so … pretty damn?
The night touched my cheeks, just cold enough to feel uncomfortable without a blanket.
We sat out on the coastal cliffs, facing the perfect moon as it hovered over the black ocean.
Pavo had managed to snuggle in between Persephone and I, having lured us by the blanket he brought. Mercury sat in front of us in his hoodie, wings folded in neatly against his back.
Pavo droned on about a scary story of his, and even though he basically ordered me to sit next to him, I thought it might be the best I’ve ever liked him. Maybe there’s just something about hearing him tell the story about how he and a friend got scared shitless by the stranger-who-might-be-a-serial-killer-guy. Even though he still managed to maintain that edge of bullshit in his voice, I found myself not caring, just simply letting myself be entertained by his descriptions of feeling scared and awaiting what was going to happen next.
I began to let my stare linger on the reflection of the moon on the ocean. The brightness swirled over the shifting waters drew my eyes in, as if the liquid version of an enchanting fire, its pattern ever growing in intricacy as it sparkled, swirled, danced. Like quicksilver shattered over obsidian.
I heard Pavo’s story ending in an anticlimactic way. His attribution to why he was still alive today.
“You guys,” I said. “Try staring at the reflection of the moon on the water. It’s amazing.”
Mercury turned around, his face barely poking out of his hoodie. “Artemis are you high?”
“No.”Fucker. “Just try it.”
“Whoa!” Persephone said. “That IS amazing–it’s almost like you can see figures dancing.”
“Right? Isn’t it ridiculous how the pattern just keeps going?” I said.
“Hippie,” Mercury said.
“Oh, shut up,” I said. I turned my eyes back to the quicksilver. Shutting him out made easy.
My eyes started to feel heavy.
“Artemis,” Pavo said. “Tell me about your faith journey.”
Instantly, I coiled tight inside. “What? My ‘faith journey’?”
“Yeah.”
“Seriously? Like…now?”
“Uh…yeah. Unless if you don’t want to talk about it?”
Why did everything suddenly feel more silent now.
“I dunno man, it’s something that’s really personal to me,” I said.
Pavo let my words roll down the cliff and into the water.
“I’m not sure if I’m ready to share about it right now,” I added.
“Hey, it’s cool,” he said.
I just wanted him to stop poking at my scabs. It burned. But I couldn’t feel mad at him, because I knew he couldn’t see them. Instead, I felt a general cloud of resentment, covering me like an ache.
Staring back at the ocean felt more hollow this time.
“Hey Pavo, it’s almost 11:30,” Mercury said. “I think we should start heading back now.”
“Sounds good,” Pavo said. He stood up, taking his blanket with him, searching the other people mingled about us. “Where’s Leo? He rode with us t–There he is. Leo, we’re gonna take off now, man.”
Leo joined us as we ambled away from the cliffs in the bright night.
Back on the even sidewalk, my eyelids started to feel heavy again. That sleep-walking sensation seeping into me like–
The sound of the car door opening punctured the air. Reminded me of the pop heard when a pickle jar is opened for the first time.
“I’ve got the hump,” Leo said. He clambered in before me.
As Mercury pulled the car onto the road, I let my resentment slip beneath my weariness. Night drives down smooth roads always induce a sense of calmness, wears down edges. The leaden awareness of gravity pulled at my forehead and my arms. Pulling further down…and I didn’t want to escape it…
When the shoulder met my cheek, it felt natural, natural as the darkness, expanding…
My eyes fluttered at the halt of the engine, Mercury killing the headlights.
I felt the scapular angles. I’m pressed against Leo.
“Erm–I’m sorry,” I said huskily, slowly lifting myself away from him. Gathered up a half-hearted urgency to somehow remove my heavy limbs from the car. I sighed out of my nose.
Leo followed, his eyes half open. He used an eyebrow to try to lift them to look at me, as he mumbled, “Goodnight.”
