A sky full of stars always gets me thinking for some reason. It never used to, so it must be the human influence. Most demons never have any reason to feel small or insignificant. And if they do, they don't just sit around and ponder it—they do anything they can to acquire more power. I'm no exception.
I almost wish I hadn't made the contract. It skews my sense of time. I feel time in the marrow of my bones, the blinking of a millennium, the infinity of a second. Each moment is discrete, a perfect clear raindrop—and then the floods come, and I stand in the middle of the ocean. But whenever Rosette breaks the seal on the pocket watch, I encounter mortality. The pure electric charge of each moment, on which the future hinges. I feel time slip away, never to be recovered.
How can she stand it? How can I take even one-hundredth of a second from her—to say nothing of years?
Rosette seems to cope with her fate by running, trying to outrace time's chariot. But I know the world will never be large enough for her to escape her problems, to chase down her dreams. I wish I could give her my time in return for the life she gives me: infinity in the palm of her hand, and eternity in an hour.
I watch a shooting star streak through the sky. It's not really a star, I know—just an ordinary space rock, made beautiful in its descent to destruction.
I hear Rosette's footsteps on the rooftop behind me. "What are you thinking about?"
Telling her the truth would produce either a lecture-enhanced pummeling or a sad, knowing smile. I don't know which one scares me more.
"I'm just looking at the stars."
She stands next to me and looks up. "They're beautiful tonight." For a long time, we just watch the sky and listen to the cars and conversations in the city below us. At last Rosette points to a shooting star. "I especially like that one."
I glance at her moonlit face, her rare relaxed smile. "Me too."
"Did you make a wish?"
Had we but world enough, and time…. "Not really."
"Me neither. There's no point in wishing, you know? You have to go out and make things happen for yourself."
"I guess." I notice she's wrapped her arms around herself. "Are you cold?"
"It's not so bad."
She would say that. I take off my cloak and drape it over her. "Is that better?"
"Yes…but aren't you cold now?"
"Um…" I am, actually. "I'll be all right."
She makes a face. "You would say that. You know, you don't have to protect me from everything."
"I know—"
"No, you don't."
"Well, I wish I could at least protect you from…"
"From what? From being hurt? From dying?"
"Yes! Or just…from something." I turn away. "From anything."
"Hey." Rosette turns me back around to face her. "I made a choice, Chrono. And the rest of it—that's just life. But if we're together, at least that's better than being alone, isn't it?"
"Right. I'm sorry. Of course it is." The wind picks up, and I shiver.
She opens the cloak. "Maybe we can keep each other safe."
I lean against her and wrap the cloak around both of us. Inside, it's warm. I feel Rosette's gentle breathing, the rhythm of her heartbeat. My cheek rests against hers, and her eyelashes brush against my face.
"I could stay like this forever," she whispers.
I know in that moment that no matter what happens, this will always be our eternity. As another star shoots across the sky, I make a wish.
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Author's Note: I used some lines from the wonderfully fitting poems "Auguries of Innocence" by William Blake and "To His Coy Mistress" by Andrew Marvell. The title of the poem and the "infinity in the palm of your hand" line come from the former; "Had we but world enough and time" and the reference to time's chariot from the latter. Chrono himself doesn't attribute them directly because we rarely do this in our thoughts (and forget about proper MLA formatting!). I had put this disclaimer up when I posted the story on my blog, but totally forgot it here. Thanks to OtherCat1 for pointing my mistake out to me.