They were like night and day.
One fair and golden, like the sun, and just as scorching.
The other pale and dark, like the moon, and just as melancholy.
One was unrelentingly honest and brutal, ever-scowling- what you saw was what you got.
The other was all fake smiles and cordiality- and sometimes you couldn't tell where the fakeness ended and the reality began.
One held his scars deep inside, protected by a burning, acid layer, harming those who approached.
The other's scars were on the surface, but faint and untouchable, remnants of a life past.
But both revolved around the same Earth. They genuinely cared about their companions, and would die to protect them.
Maybe that's why it hurt the sun so much to leave.
And maybe that's why it hurt when the sun left.
Because there was no one to reach past the dangerous layers.
Because there was no more warmth to ward off the coldness of his heart.
Because the sun and moon needed each other.