All he could see when he closed his eyes was the star filled sky.
All he could see when he opened them again was Shera. Glasses resting on the bridge of her nose, magnifying her eyes as she watched him pace.
His footsteps sounded harshly, a constant reminder of the solid earth beneath his feet.
"Space is nothing like this planet. People just aren't meant to live anywhere but here. Don't you think that's the reason they've never done it before?" A man had asked him once. Cid's blood boiled over. Too bad it wasn't idiot season.
"The reason no one's tried is because they're all too damn scared," Cid had pounced, deftly reaching for the pack of cigarettes nestled in his goggles, slipping one out, lighting it and popping it in his mouth in one quick, fluid motion. The smoke curled into the air. Cid took a deep breath, watching the smoke dance above his head as he exhaled. He swatted it with his hand. He wouldn't let it get further than him.
"Damn gravity," Cid muttered under his breath, stamping his foot down on the ground with as much force as he could muster. The ground was going to pay; he'd stomp the living hell out of it.
He dragged his feet, repositioned his goggles, ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. He could shout and swear and fight all he wanted but none of it would change a thing.
Day after day. The world never changed. He was certain now that it never would.
Each day without fail he found himself thinking that the stars were further away. Day upon day upon day. Years forming into millions of miles. Empty calendar pages pilling up on his desk. He liked his calendar empty. It made more sense that way. But Shera was slowly filling them up, scrawling plans in bold black ink on those empty days. Trying to make life mean something, he supposed.
"Stay outta my damn business, Shera; you'll just mess it up," he muttered darkly, glaring at the calendar as he walked by. He knew that all the words piled up in those cramped boxes would never mean anything to him.
The day he had waited for all his life had come and gone already. He had nothing to look forward to. That was why he wanted his calendar to stay absolutely blank. But Shera had other plans. She always did.
Cid didn't think days meant much anymore. All he did was work until he fell asleep in place. Nights had never lost their meaning, though.
Could it be because the stars seemed so much closer?
There was a little landing outside his office. A few steps and a leap were all it took to reach the rooftop.
He would lie on his back, letting the damn cement scratch at his back and pull at his hair, and up above him would be those tiny worlds all bunched together and those deep, dark spaces in between that made his heart race. What was it that wrapped so tightly around the stars?
He was so far away that his hand could eclipse galaxies of stars.
So he never raised a finger. He wanted to see it just the way it was.
But he'd always wondered if it was different up there. If the land looked so small from his airship, where stars also distorted by distance?
He didn't know enough to answer. No one did.
Science only has all the answers that it can reach. Some things are too far away.
Space was just filled with silence. Waiting to be broken by the roar of an engine thrust forward by the weight of dreams that outshined the stars.
But a scream would be so much louder. A long, loud scream that told of years and years, piled up and rotting and fusing together into a dull blur, and dreams that couldn't be held back by all those days of sadness, all those years of waiting. It was the only thing Cid was living for. To scream to the stars and to be so close that they could hear him.
Space was a vacuum and stars were deaf, but Cid had never stopped hoping.
He was becoming one of those dreamers again.
Even if the stars seemed closer, he would always be the same distance from them. He'd missed his chance. He let everything go.
He wasn't ashamed, just bitter. Just empty and tired. Almost too tired to be angry.
"Shera!" Cid shouted, not sure of why he had. Reasons are never really made up of words. Just excuses.
Nothing made him feel more alone than just sitting there and looking up at all that he could never have. He wouldn't lift a finger because he knew he couldn't reach that far.
His days were clouded in blueprints and cigarette smoke and he wasn't sure that he could see the sky so clearly anymore. He sat up, slipped out a cigarette, lit it, watched the small point of light dangle in front of him. Watched the embers fall and disappear as if they had never been on fire. Just a pile of dust.
He glanced up again, quickly. Just to make sure.
It was the same sky, alright. Just as far away as ever.
But up on the rooftops he almost dared to reach.
"Dammit."
Writer's woes: I finished it! Yes, I know it's really short...I couldn't think of what else to add.
I haven't really played the game much. This was a request from a friend. I hope you enjoy it, mon ami. :D So, the details are weird and might not fit well, so I hope I did it right!