Title: Hiding
Day/Theme: Aug. 18 / Quarter moon better than none
Character/Pairing: Oz, Alice
A/N: First attempt at writing this pairing and I fear I got Alice wrong. D: And as much as I love Gilbert, I couldn't put him in. D:
Summary: Oz doesn't like the moon, doesn't like the light that illuminates each shadow.

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Oz doesn't like the moon, its silver face beaming down on him. It's too...bright. That is the word. Bright. It shines on him, illuminating his every step, her every move. Nothing can hide from it, its silver rays penetrating even the shadows.

And Oz wants so badly to hide. He doesn't know why, only that there is something in him that likes to sit in the dark. Even after spending that time in the abyss, where the only colours he saw were monochromatic, the instinct didn't disappear.

He likes the sun, because it is everywhere, bathing the world in its light. While there are no shadows to hide in, he can still disappear because everything is the same.

Not so with the moon. With the weak, pale moon. It can't brighten everything; only gives a grey tone to the forest floor. Only makes it obvious that eyes are gleaming from a hidden corner, that something is moving in that patch of cover.

(And if he thinks about it, really thinks about it, he knows why he wants to hide. His father, his feelings, he knows all about it, but that is the one thing he doesn't want to think of.

So he doesn't.)

"What's that?" Alice points, shaking him out of his reverie.

"Hmm?" he follows her hand, her fingers connecting the small points like a spider's web. "That's a swan-"

"A swan?" She stares at it again, shaking her head. "As if."

"How about I show you another one, then?" Without waiting for a reply, he scans the night sky once more.

They've been having these lessons for weeks now, on anything and everything. Sometimes Oz merely reads to her, about far off worlds and times. Of people who could swim like fish and climb like goats. Others he showed her pictures and filled her ears with stories.

Alice is rather calm during those times. She might snort or doubt his words, but she listens and watches closely.

It's almost adorable how she tries to not let her curiosity show.

"Ok, what about those ones?" He traces the stars this time, her eyes following his finger, and she cocks her head to the side after.

"Hmm...and what is it supposed to be?"

"A hunter." He doesn't bother with names; Alice is never interested enough to pay attention to that. She just likes to hear about new things.

"I see it!" She glances at him, her eyes wide and an excited smile on her face. It's these moments, where something astounds her, where she lets her guard down for the shortest of moments, that he likes. There is no heavy weight on either of them then.

(Alice doesn't really smile all that much, not in this way. She scowls and growls and smirks cockily, but never smiles.)

Then she scowls slightly. "That's a lame hunter."

"..." Oz sighs, there's no pleasing her. "It'd be better if that wasn't there," he mentions, motioning at the quarter moon. "It's better when there's no light."

Alice glances at it, and then him, like he just said the stupidest thing on the planet. And perhaps, to her, he has.

He can never tell with Alice. Then again, he doesn't need to. She'll tell him anyways.

"That's stupid. How'd I find you if I couldn't see?"

She's doing it again. It's something hard to explain, for him. She says something bluntly, as though it's a matter of fact, as though it is obvious.

And to her, it is.

But for Oz, these things just shock him. They make his heart beat a little faster and his feet feel a little more grounded.

With Alice, these words sounds like a fact, like the truth.

"You're right," he smiles, and shifts to stand a little more in the light.

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