It takes awhile for Jongin to get used to Lu Han’s loud presence. Lu Han is all things that he doesn’t find in Joonmyun – he’s always cheerful and doesn’t let a bad case spoil his mood. He pulls Jongin out for coffee breaks and lets everything around him distract him. Jongin feels like the older one when he’s with Lu Han, but even so, he likes the feeling of secret joy bubbling in his stomach when Lu Han’s eyes twinkle; pure and untainted by the bad deeds he’s seen so much in his line of work.

“Hey,” Jongin suddenly says aloud while the both of them click away at their laptops, side by side.

Lu Han doesn’t look up, a frown of concentration lined on his forehead. “Mmm?”

“Do you think there’s a distinct line between evil and good?” It’s a question that everyone asks but never gets answered straight. Jongin doesn’t even know why he asks, when he already knows that the model answer for this is that there is none.

Lu Han doesn’t even stop to think. “Of course not, as my father would say, lines between anything in real life are all blurred. I like to see the positive side of things, that’s all. Where there’s evil, there’s good. I see the good in the evil. There’s innocence even if there’s malice. I mean, really, why not?”

He lifts his head up to smile. Eyes wrinkled, lips curved. Jongin loses his breath, but Lu Han doesn’t seem to notice.

And the secret joy bubbling in his stomach begins again.

Jongin thinks he’s fallen into a deep, deep hole that he’s not supposed to have seen.

The streets of Seoul at eight in the night are bustling with people - Jongin and Lu Han being one of them. Just half an hour ago, Lu Han had woken Jongin up from his unexpected slumber and told him, "Hey, it's dinner, let's eat."

Lu Han brings him to a typical ddeokbokki stand. He orders a couple of dishes from the lady and tells her to bring a few bottles of soju. "Let's take a break tonight. Just lighten up," he says, cheeky grin on his face.

The inside of the stand is boiling, Jongin feels. There's too many people chattering and laughing. The sound of clinked glasses strains his ears, and it's just all too constrained for someone like Jongin, who yearns to be in a flexible environment.

Lu Han punches him on the shoulders. "I said, loosen up." Jongin sticks out his tongue in playful banter, and Lu Han claps his hands and laughs.

When the food is served, Jongin is already ravished. "It's not bad," he comments, and Lu Han gives a thumbs up. "I don't bring you to stalls that aren't delicious, you know."

There's a certain type of calmness that settles in the air. Lu Han and Jongin had never been the best of work partners, but they still fit together. They're both so different in their own ways, yet after a few weeks of spending time together, Jongin feels that there'll never be a partner so close to perfection like Lu Han. Lu Han brings colours into his life like no one else had; he's just like the lava lamp he had bought for Jongin - bright and shining and calming.

Lu Han waves a hand in front of him. "What are you dreaming about?" Jongin's brought back to his senses, and he brushes it off by saying, "Nothing. I was just thinking about how different we are in terms of our work. Before I met you, Joonmyun-hyung told me that you and I were similar, that we were on the same side of law and humanity. It's funny how similar yet different we are."

Lu Han chews thoughtfully on his ddeokbokki. "Well that's quite true." And that's where their conversation stops.

The both of them eat in silence while the surrounding tables converse in high volumes, spilling vulgarities and life stories and everything else that's possible with a little help of soju. It's only after they're done when Lu Han speaks again.

“The difference between us,” he calmly says, “is that you would prosecute all criminals and I would not.”

“What if it’s someone you love?”

For the first time, Jongin sees dark clouds in the windows of Lu Han’s eyes.

“If it’s someone I love, I would do all I can to protect the person. Even if it means prosecuting myself.”

It's Lu Han who tells him to take a walk around the park after their dinner. Good for digestion, he says.

"But it's dark," Jongin replies, but he relents anyway.

The park is eerily silent at that time of night, and the only source of lights coming from the street lamp. Jongin feels strangely at ease, to be away from the hustle and bustle. He paces his footsteps to be in synced with Lu Han's, allowing the secret joy in his stomach to bubble again. The queasiness from the mixture of ddeokboki and soju is starting to settle already.

“How about we do this,” Lu Han suggests quietly. Jongin turns his head to face him. “I'll tell you a secret, and you'll tell me one."

“What’s the reason behind this?” It's weird for Lu Han to make a request like that.

"Nothing, really. I just thought that I could let out some steam. I don't really like keeping things within me."

"Um, okay." Lu Han gives him a grateful smile. "I'll start then," he says.

The stars are shining. Lu Han’s eyes, crystal clear like they always are, reflect the moon. “My parents didn’t approve of me coming to Korea to work. They told me to stay in Beijing and take over their multinational company. But I didn’t, because I didn’t like to be restrained. I liked the feeling of freedom and nothing was going to hold. That’s why I ended up as a private detective and not working alongside your unit.”

Lu Han breathes in heavily before continuing. “The night I packed my bags and left, they told me to never come back. They told me I wasn’t being a good son, and if I were to be bad, they’d rather not have me as a son. I left anyway. But do I think I’m a bad son? Not really. They could be bad parents. There’s so many sides to everything, it’s impossible to determine.”

Jongin bites his lip. The fact that Lu Han had just let go of his parents like that - it was so hard to imagine.

"Don't you miss your parents?" Lu Han smiles through wistful eyes. "Of course, why wouldn't I? But if I didn't leave, I wouldn't have met you."

Jongin feels his cheeks creep up to crimson red; Lu Han only laughs. "Now that I've shared this secret, it's your turn."

He thinks long and hard. This wasn't a secret he shared with everyone, but to him, Lu Han wasn't part of the everyone.

“My parents… My parents died in front of my eyes, when I was ten. They were cleanly shot in the head, both of them. The guy was crazy, he had wild eyes and was going to shoot me too, but then the police came. That’s how I became an orphan. I had no one to depend on but me. That’s why I’m so on the side of justice – I don’t want anyone else losing hope in their life because of a stupid mistake.”

Warm tears fall into his clenched hands. Both of them stop in their tracks, no longer strolling through the park. Jongin feels weak and stupid for crying in public - he is a manly man, goddammit - but he also feels lighter, like a burden was off his shoulders.

“But you still have me,” Lu Han says. He takes Jongin’s trembling hands into his own. “I’ll be the beacon of light in your life. From now on, I’ll be your backbone, your hope, your everything. You can be mine. We can have each other.”

When their lips touch, Jongin feels like he's on top of the world.

Nothing can bring him down.

It's hours later when Lu Han speaks, body bare and snuggled closely to Jongin to grab a bit of the body heat. "We'll catch the mastermind behind this together, okay? To save the city we love."

Jongin can only smile as he replies, "You and I against the world? I like the sound of that."

When Jongin was a child, he dreamt of dreams.

When reality came crashing down on him, he dreamt of revenge.

When he began solving crime, he dreamt of justice.

Now, when he’s with Lu Han, he dreams of love and a happy ending.

((But happy endings don’t happen if you don’t work to make it come true.))

After so many cases, Jongin isn't surprised anymore that he gets called up for in the early morning, before the birds even start chirping. He's quick on his feet and in his actions, as he hurriedly changes out of his sleepwear and into more suitable clothes. Before he leaves he pauses at the door for a split second and runs back into the kitchen to grab a slice of bread to nibble on.

The first thing Jongin actually notices when he arrives at the scene of crime is not the body - he doesn't even need to look to know the cause of death, it's only out of basic police enforcement that he searches the place thoroughly anyway - but the fact that Lu Han is wearing a huge pair of sunglasses. Indoors.

He walks briskly over to his boyfriend. "What happened to your eyes? Did you get into a fight or something?" Jongin's more amused than anything, really.

"Um..." Lu Han only fidgets around, shifting the balls of his soles from one foot to the other, as if contemplating on what to reply. Jongin only manages to frown deeper when Lu Han awkwardly laughs and gives him a half-hearted shove on the shoulder. "This is a new fashion statement. Didn't you read Huang Zitao's latest editorial? Sunglasses are in the season."

"You don't need fashion statements when you're working on a serial murder case," Jongin murmurs in response, getting increasingly confused and worried when Lu Han once again fails to give an adequate reply.

"The case! Jongin-ah, focus on the case!" He attempts to force Jongin to turn around and begin scouring the crime scene, but Jongin's larger in size and also stronger, so the latter barely budges.

"Jesus Lu Han, what's wrong with you? It's not like someone punched- punched... you..."

Jongin has to physically hold back a gasp. The patch of blue-black on Lu Han's right eye is swollen and throbbing. "What happened to your eye," he demands. The past few days, Jongin's been caught up with endless amount of paper work and Lu Han had mysteriously disappeared, sending him texts saying I'm fine Jongin, go to sleep and whatnot every once in awhile. They haven't been spending a lot of time together despite dating and working on the same case.

"I hit myself with a water pipe yesterday while chasing down a criminal," Lu Han answers quietly - almost meekly. Jongin only raises an eyebrow. "But I thought you're solely dedicated to this case only."

To his surprise, Lu Han pouts and smacks him on the head. "Don't be so self-conceited and think I'm only here for this case, I don't work for the government, I don't get salary unless I work. I need to make money so I can buy more decorations for your house and also more nourishing food for you! Canned food isn't healthy!"

"Okay..." Jongin isn't entirely convinced but his conversation with Lu Han is taking up too much time. He can see Joonmyun not-so patiently waiting for him at the side. This issue can wait until they're alone together.  

Lu Han smiles lightly. "Let's go. We've got a case to solve."

Twenty hours later, and they're back at Jongin's apartment, resting together on the couch, both bathed and feeling extremely lethargic. They're nowhere near close to ending this case and this is problematic. Even Joonmyun is starting to pester, but even with their two brains combined, they haven't found much of a lead yet.

Tonight is the night Jongin decides to heck it and take a well-deserved break for once. He's been slogging his guts out for years, and the only way he knows how to break through a hard case, is to rest. Jongin closes his eyes and slowly inches his head over to Lu Han's shoulders, the ache in his neck muscles loosening and he feels like he's in heaven. Lu Han hums a little tune that suspiciously sounds like the DBSK's opening for One Piece.

I'll go any number of times until we get to that sky, now is the time, let's cross over, I believe toward one tomorrow, yeah yeah…

He doesn't realise that he's fallen asleep until he feels Lu Han's gentle proddings. "Hey, go back to your room." Lu Han's voice is sweet like honey; it's warm and the right type of sticky and Jongin never wants to stop listening to it. "Will you stay tonight?" he mumbles blearily, still very much in the world of sleep.

He looks at Lu Han through one eye, and he sees the hesitation. But he doesn't expect what's coming.

"Actually, I was thinking of staying with you. Like, permanently."

This time, Jongin lifts his head up to look at Lu Han straight in the eye. Lu Han looks back, but there's this strange tingle Jongin gets from him. Maybe it's the haziness, the cloud that Lu Han has brought that doesn't allow Jongin entry in. Lu Han's eyes are usually clear and telling; that's what Jongin had first noticed and also what he had first fallen in love with. The twinkle isn't always there but if anything, Jongin knows he loves Lu Han and he knows that Lu Han loves him too. Even as they both keep their silent, Jongin knows that it's love and concern and a mix of everything else that's included in the windows of Lu Han's entity.

That's when Jongin breaks into a tired grin. He heaves himself off the couch and pulls Lu Han by the wrist to do the same. The brown beads clash against tanned skin and fragile wrist. A new chapter has begun.

"I'd never want to leave you anyway," Jongin

says. Lu Han squeezes his fingers as a response, but Jongin can't help but feel that the slight tightness of Lu Han's grip seem to hold something deeper.

Almost as an afterthought, Lu Han blurts out softly, "I love you." Almost like an afterthought, the grip loosens.

Almost as an afterthought, Jongin replies, "Me too."

Lu Han feels nice. Jongin likes it when Lu Han scoops him and pulls him closer, mumbling incoherent words into the crook of his neck. Most of the time, Jongin is the one who falls into dreamland first. Lu Han pats him on the back in a way that's oddly comforting. It feels like the old times, when his mother used to do that too. Sometimes, Lu Han falls asleep first. When this happens, Jongin likes to stare at the contours of his face, silently mapping them out with his index finger. Lu Han looks good under the reflection of the moonlight, eyelashes long and curled, lips slightly opened. That is what you would call perfection.

They get into a routine fairly quickly. Lu Han makes dinner while Jongin does the dishes. They end up sharing clothes between themselves because it's so much more convenient than splitting Jongin's almost bursting wardrobe ("Jongin, even your clothes are dull, who wears polo shirts anymore, I'm throwing them out."). On Wednesdays, they go grocery shopping. Some Saturdays, they visit the antique shops and buy more ornaments for their home.

It's scary how they fit in as one so fast, but Jongin doesn't mind, because it's Lu Han. Lu Han makes his world go round, Lu Han gives him a new purpose to live. Lu Han Lu Han Lu Han. If his life were a tweetcloud right now, the biggest word in the cloud would probably be Lu Han.

Now, when Jongin sleeps, he sleeps without a dream. Lu Han's arms around his waist are a safe haven that he basks on and crawls into for protection. They're his very own dream catcher and he's not about to let it go.

His sleeps are as dark as the nights now, but he doesn't mind at all. Jongin is happy with Lu Han and that's probably the best thing that's ever happened to him since his parents died.

Lu Han absentmindedly twirls the beads on his bracelet; Jongin sleeps guarded by an invisible force.

Goodnight, sleep tight, don't let the bedbugs bite.

A quiet month passes. The serial killer doesn't strike again, and so Jongin and Lu Han's daily routine include scurrying to and fro the labs and offices. Nothing is proven positive, and so Jongin is very rattled and unnerved.

"He or she is supposed to strike one more time! The timings in between each killings were pretty closely spaced, at most two weeks. This makes no sense." Jongin frowns into his coffee, mirroring the bitterness of it. Lu Han rests a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Maybe he decided not to continue on with it. Maybe he realised the importance of lives. Or maybe, maybe he just had someone he loved and didn't want to let go."

"It's no time to be sentimental Lu Han, this is serious," Jongin snaps in response, but immediately regrets but he sees Lu Han slightly flinching. He bunches up a ball of messy hair in his palm. "I'm sorry, I'm just really frustrated right now. It's been so long and we still haven't gotten anything on this person, I just don't know what to do."

Lu Han only gives him an understanding nod.

They continue on with this mundane cycle, never being able to get out of this. It's two weeks after, when deadlines are pressing, that Jongin falls ill.

"Jesus Jongin, you have a high fever," Lu Han chides, pushing him into their bed and under the thick covers. Jongin barely has the energy to protest anyway. He's shivering violently and his head is about to burst. The headache that has been away for a while is finally back.

"Hang on, I'll get you some medicine." Lu Han runs out of their room, but pops his head in just a minute later. "It seems like we've run out of panadol, hang on, Jongin-ah, I'll just run down to the pharmacy to buy some more.” Jongin hears the door slam shut before he slowly starts to drift to sleep.

And he never hears Lu Han coming back with the medicine.

For the first time since Lu Han has stayed over at his house, Jongin dreams.

He dreams that he’s in a dark alley, arms crossed, body propped up against the wall. In his dream, he sees a man - half a head shorter than him, dressed in black leather pants, coupled with a leopard-printed shirt.

Without hesitation, Jongin raises his gun, aiming for his head and the right nerve.

And he shoots.

It’s a slow process, when Jongin eventually wakes up. He realises, with a start, that he’s still in bed, and not some dingy old alley like in his dream. It’s also already morning - Lu Han isn’t in bed with him.

Turning his attention to the phone on his bedside table, he finds a glass of water and two panadol pills instead. Beside them, there’s a note that reads:

Jongin,

Another case happened today, I’ve gone down to take a look at it. Stay safe and healthy.

Jongin ends up eating the two pills and falls asleep once again. Hours later, he wakes up to the smell of porridge wafting from the kitchen.

“Oh, you’re awake!” Lu Han pulls a chair out for Jongin and gestures him to sit. “I hope you like porridge, it’s the only thing I know how to cook other than ramen.”

“It’s fine,” he insists, slurping at the porridge with satisfaction plastered all over his face to show it. When he sees Lu Han stifling a laugh, he smiles as well, ignoring his burning head.

“In any case, give me details on the victim today.” Lu Han pauses for a split second before he explains. “The victim was a twenty-seven year old male, about 170cm. I don’t really have to say this, but yeah, same death method. He died because he was shot in the head.”

“Mmm. What was he wearing?”

“Wearing? Ehh, I think leather pants. And there was a leopard on his shirt.”

The porridge in Jongin’s mouth immediately turns into rock, and he finds himself choking painfully on it. Before he realises, Lu Han is up and pushing a glass of water into his hand, urging him to drink it. The water sloshes down his throat, and Jongin is able to breathe again.

Lu Han’s hands rub circles on his back. Jongin is still panting heavily, and he’s sweating profusely as well. There’s no way that could happen. It was impossible.

“What is it? Jongin, calm down.” Lu Han tries to pacify him but Jongin just grabs his hands, eyes wide in shock. “I... I had a dream on this. Lu Han, I saw the exact same guy in my dream last night! I was hiding in an alley, and I held up my gun, and... I shot him.”

He sees the confusion on Lu Han’s face, and then the realisation slowly settling in. Lu Han squeezes his fingers as comfort, but he grips his delicate bones so hard that Jongin cringes. It’s unsettling, but it holds a certain level of reassurance as well. Lu Han’s touches, no matter how strong or gentle they are, all make Jongin feel better. It’s like he gingerly picks up the burdens and throws it aside, even if it’s for a moment only.

“Don’t be so paranoid, Jongin. It’s just a dream. You woke up and you were in bed right? Stop thinking so much about it.”

But Jongin just can’t. It’s not every day that he gets a dream like that. In his dreams, he’s never the one holding the gun. In his dreams, he’s the one who sees another person wielding it. It’s strange enough at that, but he also has to go kill someone identical to the real victim too.

Goosebumps appear on his back. This is all so strange.

Jongin only shuts up because Lu Han looks like he’s about to cry. They continue to eat their porridge in unwritten silence, but Jongin’s mind is whirling with questions he cannot answer.

He’s curious, but as they say, curiosity killed the cat.

People wish upon a shooting star because others tell them that wishes will come true.

But stars only fall because they’re laden with too many wishes, and it’s too heavy for them to carry.

Against the minimalist backdrop of the galaxy, people awe at the sight of yellow sparkles sprinkling the sky.

It’s so pretty, they chorus. Quick, make a wish.

But when a star falls; destruction is its end.

Where do all the wishes go now?

Jongin is put under house arrest by Lu Han because he’s still running a fever. Lu Han tells him that he’s going out to settle some matters, and that he should be back soon. “Don’t move,” he warns, squinting his eyes for extra emphasis, before closing the door.

Jongin, pale and weak and yet also bored, fiddles with his phone while bedridden. He manages to pass a few hours playing Battle Cats, but eventually tosses it aside because he’s heating up under the sheets.

His body is stiff. Maybe I should watch television instead.

He makes his way out of the bedroom, plopping himself in front on the couch. It doesn’t take him long to realise that there’s nothing interesting on the television right now - heck, when was he interested in television programmes anyway? - and that he’s just aimlessly switching the channels around.

Jongin groans. Being sick .

He focuses his attention on his work table - now his and Lu Han’s. He hasn’t been using it since he fell sick. It’s pretty messy, he realises. And so, without anything to do, Jongin decides to pack the table.

Ring files on the right, plastic files on the left. Loose sheets in the second drawer, stationery in the first. It takes awhile, but it doesn’t take much effort.

At the bottom of the stack, he comes across a fairly new file, titled ‘CONFIDENTIAL’. Jongin fingers the cover, contemplating on whether to flip it over. It wouldn’t hurt, right? There were no secrets between him and Lu Han-

Name: Kim Jongin

Flashbacks replay in his head as he reads on, blood draining from his already pale face at an increasing speed.

Handwriting. Bloodied fist. Kohl-lined eyes. Oversleeping. Lu Han’s black eye. The gun in his ha-

Jongin drops the file and runs.

The first thing Lu Han realises when he returns home, is that Jongin is not there.

“Hello?” It’s his voice that echoes back. The apartment is empty and hollow and Jongin-less.

He swallows. He doesn’t get a good feeling from this. Maybe it’s the pricks at the tips of his fingers and the slight chill in the air that gives him an indication, but Lu Han feels as if something terribly bad is about to happen.

He cautiously walks in, every footstep of his sounding louder in his ear. Adrenaline rushes through his blood. It’s not a positive sign.

The second thing that Lu Han notices, is that the medical file he secretly stashed away, is now thrown haphazardly on the couch, the papers all over the floor. The top of the stack, lay the most important the vital one.

Name: Kim Jongin

Age: 25

Nationality: South Korean

Illness Diagnosed: Multiple Personality Disorder

Symptoms: Hallucinations, Loss of time, Murder

Notes: Alter ego - Kai.

“.”

He runs forward to stack up the sheets, before his hands skim across white, shimmery paper. The handwriting is messy, light and slanted, hardly leaving any indents. Yet, the message it held weighed far more than Lu Han could carry.

He drops the letter and runs, runs, runs; runs to where he would be. Where he still would be.

Don't die on me, please.

It’s his instincts that brings him to where Jongin is. It’s the place where he met the other Jongin - when he first confirmed his suspicions.

Jongin stands high and strong on the ledge of the roof. His eyes are swollen and red, and at the same time listless. Lu Han wants to pull Jongin into a tight hug, to tell him that it’s okay, you’re fine, you’re not in the wrong, please don’t do this to yourself. The stone in his stomach drops painfully when Jongin lifts the gun up.

"Jongin please," Lu Han pleads. The revolver shakes dangerously at the side of his head, fingers wrapped firmly around the trigger. "You don't have to do this."

The brown beads dangle by its thread, threatening to fall off at any moment. There's nothing to protect Jongin now.

"But I do," he croaks. "I'm not the police investigator extraordinaire. I'm not your lover. Heck, I'm not even Kim Jongin."

Fingers tighten. Hand steadies. All clear.

Jongin's voice booms over the hustle of the wind. "Haven't I sworn to catch the murderer before? Didn't we make an oath that we must stop him at all cost, to save the city we love?"

"But I love you even more, please, Jongin no, we can sort this out-"

"Lu Han." Wind stops. Voices humble down. All clear.

"I'm the murderer. The murderer is me. We're both the same." It's painful to hear, just like the sounds of nails scratching the blackboard - shrilling and haunting.

"Love isn't enough in this game - can't you see? I've killed so many innocent people and it's because of me! I deserve this, I can't live on my life knowing that my hands were once stained with the blood of my sins. I grew up promising myself to capture all the bad guys, all the criminals, and look what I've turned into? A ing monster."

Many things can happen in a split second-

"JONGIN NO!"

And there he goes.

They say that when you look out into the sky and see a star twinkling, it’s actually exploding into billions and billions of tiny particles.

It’s dying, it’s dead.

But people also tell you the beauty of stars, about how it lights up the Milky Way and gives people hope to dream and wish. The soft light will be there for you when you need it.

They don’t tell you how, in order for stars to brighten up the night landscape, they’d need to fizzle out and die.

And so, for a dead star to reach Lu Han’s palms after he’s wished upon it so fervently, held it so tightly, protected it so dearly, he’s broken.

The little Beijing boy, who looked up at the constellations through his telescope every night, hoping for his star is come down and descend upon him, for he was too afraid to climb his very own Stairs Without Steps.

My favourite constellation is Cassiopeia, did you know that?

When he finally gained the courage to take the first step, he ran. Out of his own home country, and into a territory unknown. But just like the little girl, he climbed, not afraid of that he might slip, because he could already see the star twinkling in the distance, stardust flying around everywhere. It was so full of energy, and full of potential. He knew that it was his star.

But alas; the star was shrouded in darkness, separated from the rest. There were other stars he could touch, but him only wanted that particular one. It was the only one knew he would be satisfied with.

Slowly, he tiptoed towards it, determined not to let it get into the black hole - no, it wouldn’t do justice to such an innocent star. He stretched his hand out, eyes wide open. He was about to touch the star! He would finally be able to feel it!

As he got closer, and closer, and closer, a shooting star had zoomed past him as well. Unable to balance the sudden change of events, he slipped and fell into eternal darkness.

But not without brushing the star first.

If you loved - sorry, I meant love - me to the world and beyond, can I love you to the universe and under?

Let us both meet under the stars, under the trees, under the ground.

My heart is gaping, but it is heavy. It is full of secrets I can no longer keep (a big chunk belonging to you).

That ink pen you always use, the paper parchment you write with - how could I not have known?

I once told you that loving someone would mean I would protect the person with all my means. I did try, did you see? Could you tell?

Don’t be sorry. I love you and that’s all you need to know. This game was over the moment we fell in love. We both lost. And you know what that means right?

You and I against the world - I do like the sound of that.

-1

xoxo

The story ends with the little girl in her bed, clutching onto stardust in her hand.

And that, is how their story will end too.

[a/n] omg i forgot to update with the second part of this ._. anyway whoever's reading this, i hoped you like it! also, if you were wondering, the story about the girl wanting to touch the stars can be found here.