He has sunlight crackling at the corner of his lips when he smiles, moonlight shining through his pupils when he laughs, and blue skies white clouds soaring birds fill her entire existence when she sees him, when she sees sunlight and moonlight and the (her) whole world.

       She is an eclipse. She is darkness, cold, death, emptiness. She is everything he isn't in all of the worst ways and she knows that, and she knows that one of those things she is and he isn't is selfish. So as the selfish eclipse blacks out the (his) whole world, so does she as she stays, tricks him into thinking she is special, she is worth it, she is forever.

       (She is not.)

       He finds that out in a harsh scream of you mean nothing to me before she is pulling her already-packed clothes out of the door, out of his life, out of her universe. The moonlight does not shine through his eyes and the sunlight does not crackle at his lips when she looks in the rearview mirror and sees him, frozen and shocked, and then sobbing and broken.

       Nine years later they see each other again for the first time and she looks desperately for the sun-moon-light but all she can see is storm clouds and hail.

       As she tries to find the real him in him (at the same time hiding the real her in her), she finally realizes that an eclipse cannot exist without the sun and the moon (light).

       (He had realized long ago that the sun and moon cannot exist without the occasional eclipse. He thought she had realized the same.)

       (She had not.)

       Now they see they are mutually dependent on each other. Sun, moon, eclipse. They are the (each other's) world.

       Forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

9/16/14 15:49

Author's Note:
This is inspired by Sarah and Cal from
the TV show Orphan Black.
It was originally posted
on my Tumblr, 2ne1blaqjack.
But I wrote it in the Spectrum club
so I thought it'd be appropriate to
put it up on here as well.