Even though Allen seemed to forgive the way I acted so easily, I didn't forgive myself. I had gone too far; not only letting myself get angry, but taking that anger out on someone, one of our friends, nonetheless. So the next week, I stayed away. I still sat with Allen during class and lunch, but I kept talking to a minimum. I didn't touch him, and didn't let him touch me, which honestly wasn't too hard, until I would catch him looking at me. Staring, actually. He would look with sadness, maybe even pity in his eyes, and I just would accept that. When ever I caught him, it would take all my strengthen and willpower to stand up and simply walk away.

It was worst that Tuesday morning.

After I had reveled my eye to all our, mostly Allen's, friends, I remember tossing my eye-patch on the coffee table. The only thing was, that morning I couldn't find it. It wasn't under the table, the couch, inside the cushions. It was like it uped and vanished. When I realized that it was gone, I fell onto the sofa, my face in my hands, my hair blocking both from sight. When I heard Allen pad over, I stood up and started looking through my room, trying to get away from him before he could shoot me another pitiful look. But it wasn't in there either, and that's when I started to panic.

I almost fell into a bawling heap, but I had had enough emotions to last me a month, all jammed into a few days, and I couldn't have that. I just couldn't. So instead, I looked harder. I almost tore the house apart, looking behind the tiny excuse of an entertainment center, on top of the TV, even in the refrigerator, all the while, Allen following me around, looking anguished; like he had something to say that he didn't want to an awful lot. I ignored him, hoping that once it was close to coming late for the bus, he would leave me alone to search the rest of the day. That never happened. Instead, he laid his hand on my shoulder, and I spun around, furious that he was distracting me while I still had a chance to catch the bus.

"Lavi, you're going to give yourself an ulcer," he had said. At the time, I didn't think much of it. I just really needed to find my eye-patch. So I told him that.

I told him, "Allen, I'm not going anywhere without it! I don't ask you to go to school without sleeves, I don't go to school without my eye-patch!" Of course, it was with more force and anger than necessary, but I couldn't be distracted. That's when he told me solemnly that he was going to go look in his room. Why it would be in there, I had no clue, but hell, I was still searching through the kitchen.

The next time I saw him, he was holding my eye-patch out to me. I kind of glared at him, but immediately snatched it out of his hand and ran to the bathroom to tie it on and adjust it. When I came back out to question him why it was in his room, he was gone, already walking down the road. Then I sighed, grabbed my bag and followed far, far behind him. From then on, I knew this week was going to be hard.

I noticed that Kanda was staying away too, much more effectively than I have been. He didn't sit with us at lunch, and I hadn't seen him around, at all. Every so often I would catch a glimpse of his ponytail wafting into a classroom, but that was about it.

During lunch, I would sit a decent distance away from Lenalee and Allen, completely zoned out, but one day I overheard a conversation of their's. Apparently, Kanda was having some trouble with some guy named Tiedoll, whoever that was, which was the reason for his even-more-than-usually irritable behavior. I was beginning to believe he was Kanda's father, the way Lenalee talked about how they toyed and fought, but somehow I could feel that wasn't exactly it. Then Wednesday, I finally caught wind after Allen brought the subject back up.

No matter how badly I wanted to stand up, my mouth agape, I just couldn't let it slide past my defenses. I had been stone-cold all week, and after something like that, you have to slowly associate yourself back into society, or else people might suspect something. I know; I've had to do it before, and I really didn't want to have to go through all that.

So Kanda has a parole officer named Tiedoll? It wasn't too astonishing, but I assumed he had some self control. Well, hopefully at least more than I did. I wasn't going to think too much on that.

I must have been dazing off during class Thursday with Daisya, and I guess he must have noticed. He prodded me in the shoulder and asked, "Lavi? You alright, bud? You like your having a tough time."

Daisya and I weren't exactly close friends like I was with Allen (and I guess Lenalee) but we were close enough to talk about how we were doing, and that was almost exactly what I was needing.

"Yeah, I'm just, well, having it rough lately."

"Well, you always have me! That's all anybody needs," he replied. I laughed. Count on Daisya to make life sound simple.

"Yeah, well..."

"What?" He asked, almost shocked. "You mean, there's something else you want! Well, I'd trade that for me any day."

He always knew the right things to say to entice a laugh out of me, even a small one. That only made me think of Allen. Sure Daisya was funny, but just seeing Allen happy would always cheer me right up. He wasn't happy very often this week. I thought I was doing the right thing by keeping away, but I guess not.

"Is it that Allen kid you're livin' with?"

I picked my head from my hand and glared at him. How-...? What-...?! "Why'd you say that?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. You seem like you've gotten to be pretty close friends in like, what, two weeks?"

I sighed and my chin rested against my fist again. "Yeah, sorta. I kinda, almost beat the shit out of his friend. It's a long story that I do not want to talk about."

Daisya just, 'hmm'ed and continued. "Well, they're all freaks anyway. I mean, that scar? What the fuck? That can't be natural."

I sat back in my chair and crossed my arms over my chest. "Weird marks, huh?" I asked, staring pointedly at the strange shapes under Daisya's eyes. Once he told me they were scars, and once I heard they were birthmarks. A third time, he told me they were tattoos.

He brushed me off with a scoff. "Pfft, please. I only do it because it attracts the sluts. Not much unlike your eye-patch." He wags his eyebrows at me, and nudges me with his elbow, "Eh? Eh? I saw you flirtin' it up with Road last week. She have you running around the bases yet?"

"What?!" I had burst out, sending Daisya laughing.

Suddenly, awful images flooded my mind and I had to think of Allen to make them go away. Of course, that just made me feel guilty. Somewhere deep down. Deep, deep down. Deep, deep, deep... You get the point.

"Ugh, that's-...! What? No way. Who knows what I'd catch."

"Cooties?"

I rolled my eyes at Daisya, and returned to my class assignment.

Now, it's Friday and I can't wait to go home and take a nap; maybe with Allen; if he'd let me. Of course, I'd have to reestablish myself with him, which aught to be fun. I had helped Allen a bit when he got lost during Algebra, a I actually payed attention during lunch, in case my name was said I could join the conversation, but that never happened. The bus ride home, I sat closer to him, but not with him. I didn't have the courage for that.

We got off the bus and walked home in silence. The house was in sight when Allen speaks up.

"Lavi, have you been okay? You've been really distant. Is this about last weekend?"

My gaze falls to the pavement and I tilt my head to look at him. He still looks really sad, and I want to wipe that away somehow. Obviously this wasn't the best way to go about it.

"Allen, I'm sorry. I just... The thing with my eye freaked me out."

He hums a note of understanding and turns back to the pavement. I can't tell if he's willing to leave it at that or not, until he speaks up again. "You didn't have to do that, you know. No one was expecting it."

"Yeah, well, it sure felt necessary. But... You don't know what my past was like. I don't know if it's as bad or worse than yours, but it's coming back.

"Will you tell me about it?"

I take a long sigh. I want to, and I already know so much about him, well, in a sense. Besides, I'm suppose to be past all of it. It shouldn't be able to hurt me anymore, even though it does. Telling him would be best; it might clear the air a little more, even if I'm not allowed to tell him a lot.

"Can we get inside first?"

He gives me a small smile, but it's still a sad one. We finally approach the house and he opens the door and we enter. I leave to throw my bag in my room and carefully place my eye-patch with the rest of my stuff by my bag, all the while working to kick off my shoes.

I come back out and Allen is sitting on the couch with a can of soda in his hand, and another, unopened, on the table. I'm assuming it's for me.

"You never told me why my eye-patch was in your room."

He takes sip and looks up at me. "Oh, it was in my pant's pocket. I was going to give it to you when you, uh, took off."

The way he tiptoes around acknowledging my actions gives me some hope. After all, we're in similar situations. Why would I expect him not to understand? I don't know, but the point is that I'm still scared.

"So..." Allen begins. I sit down next to him like I do, with my leg folded under me, and I take a deep breath, trying to find what I can and can't tell him. I suddenly start wondering if Cross keeps any liquor laying around.

I find a decent place to start, and, with my arm folded over the back of the couch, dig my face in it, turn just enough so I won't have to repeat anything Allen might not hear.

"My parents are, well, were, in a rough line of work; they both were. In fact, that's how they met. When you're in situations like they were, love is a weakness, and is not to be experienced, so when they fell for each other, they had to keep it a secret. It was a life-or-death secret."

Allen places his hand on my knee and I stare at it, and continue. "When my mom got pregnant, she decided she needed out of the... Work, which isn't easily accomplished, and she couldn't tell anyone that she was pregnant because she'd get in bigger trouble. When they wouldn't let her out, she started hurting herself, and using that as an excuse to stay at home, saying it happened there or during an accident outside the place."

Ah, geeze... My eye starts burning, and I feel Allen scoot closer to me. I don't dare look up at him. I see him start to hold his hands out, as if saying, 'Alright, Lavi. That's enough. Go take your nap,' but I don't let him. If I don't let it out now, I have a feeling I never will, unlike Allen, who's been on and off for almost two weeks.

"My dad didn't like that. He met with her one day and told her that he was going to tell the boss that he had raped her, earning her and the kid full protection, but it was practically a death sentence for him. I guess she wouldn't let him, using some sappy, "I'll never forgive you!" as leverage."

I begin to chuckle sadly, and move to wipe my eye, but Allen beats me to the punch, pulling my face from the crook of my arm and drying my cheek with his thumb. I lean into his hand, exactly like I shouldn't have, and when I go to speak again, I move his hand away gently.

"Anyway, when I was born, my mom took used the time recovering from her injuries to recover from that. Although I sorta lived with my mom, she was never there. I don't even remember what she looked like, or her voice, or my dad at all."

"Now when I say, 'rough line of work,' I meant it. When a rivaling, group, found out that not only one person in the business had a kid, but two together, he must've jumped right on it."

I'm trying to choke through bone-rattling sobs, and I can tell Allen wants me to stop, but if no one knows, how will I ever get over this, now that it's becoming bad again? I just hope it doesn't get to the degree it was, all those years ago. I take another deep breath and work to keep speaking.

"I was about eight at the time, and I was taken." I'm still staring at his hand and cast resting on my knee, but I start to feel Allen's other arm snaking up my shoulder and around my neck. His fingers wrap themselves in and out of the hair at the base of my hairline and it gives me the courage to continue. "Kidnapped, right out from everyone's noses, and used as bait to draw in my parents and have them killed."

As I'm talking, it no longer sounds like my voice. It sounds like a small child, reading aloud a sad novel, and this is the ending. The ending of the book, and for him. I've come to terms with what happened, but whenever I talk about it, it still feels dreamy, like I could awake at any moment and find myself with a normal mom, a real dad, and a family.

Allen's fingers loosens from my hair and I can feel him glide the back of his palm across my cheek, wiping away any tears and I can feel him looking at my scar. I nod. "That's when I lost my eye."

Finally, I have to look up at him, and I watch his eyes shift from my scar, quickly to my good eye, but it doesn't go back. "That's when I moved in with Bookman. He worked together with my parents a few times, so he knew them. He had successfully worked his way out of the job and he agreed to take me in as a friend of the family. He still works as a consultant sometimes, but he always refused to get back into it fully. And now I'm here."

ooOIOoo

No wonder he was so self conscious about his eye.

Strangely enough, this all excused Lavi's behavior; why he was secretly nervous, why he got angry, and even that he took it out on Kanda. He didn't loose his eye, it was taken from him, all for a sick, what, job? I know he's not allowed to tell me everything, like what said job was, or who any of the people are, or were, but I think I'm finally begin to understand Lavi, and why he thinks things that he does.

Like why he's so determined to get me over my arm.

Even though my scar is worse, I have to believe that his story was worse. I got the physical attribute, he got the mental, and together we have to hide from society, constantly trying to cheer each other up.

Although, I'm thinking all these things at once, and my head can't handle all of it. His parent's stupidity got themselves killed and lost their son his eye and almost his sanity. But for a job?! There's got to be something I'm missing, but I still can't get over that. Some rival business? They just decided, 'I'm going to take your kid because you're not giving me what I want!'

Then I'm thinking about Lavi, and what it would've been like. Excruciatingly painful. World-shattering. And to think of all the scars on his sides and back. Are those from that too? Was he... Tortured? Oh god... I can just imagine poor little Lavi, someone telling him that either his parents came and he'll kill them, or they wouldn't and he'd kill him. Some disgusting low-life standing over him with a knife, or...

I feel bile rising in my throat at the thought. How he could have withstood it, I had no idea. I would have never had the strength. And I've already shown so much weakness in front of Lavi. It was embarrassing. It was degrading to him, when it appeared that I could handle so, so much until I finally broke, when Lavi was still standing tall under double the weight. But people only saw my weaknesses and my struggles, because no body knew. No body knew the pain and misery that Lavi had to go through, and when he broke, he took it out on himself. Well, first Kanda, but then he punished himself; beat himself up for not having the strength by becoming distant, and pushing away his friends.

I don't move for quite a while. Just sitting with my palm resting on Lavi's cheek, but when my thoughts finally calm down, my arms are thrown around him with haste. I want to pull him tight against me, but Lavi needs the comfort, not me. I let him wrap his arms around my torso, but it's a gentle embrace, not one you'd receive from someone in his situation. Why doesn't he understand that he's the one that's suppose to be grabbing me tightly? I'm suppose to be comforting him!

"Lavi, stop it," I mumble into his neck. There's hesitation, but he finally moves to hold me tightly. I feel his fists start to ball in my shirt. I start thinking and, inadvertently, it comes out: "You're so strong..." He starts wrapping his arms tighter around my ribs and I don't even care that I can't breathe anymore; I just want to be here for him the way he has been for me. Without thinking my good hand starts combing through his hair, tangling with it as I start to squeeze back. I can feel, more than hear him start to laugh and he slowly starts loosening his grip to down around my waist.

My left arm starts itching, and I start thinking about the history between me and Mana. As soon as I get this dreaded cast off, I have to tell Lavi. I have to tell him about it being my fault, about the arm-length scar. I want to tell him now, but I don't think I have the courage at the moment, and I want to be able to see it without the cast in the way when the time comes. He needs to know.

"Allen?"

I break away from my thoughts and turn up to face him. "Hmm?"

"We're okay, right?"

I have to smile up at him, and he soon follows in suit. "When weren't we?"

He looks like he wants to begin, 'Well all this week...' but he doesn't, which makes both of our life's easier.

His outside arm starts to move off of me completely and he reaches for the soda I brought him. He cracks the can and takes a sip, stretching his legs to prop them on the coffee table. His other then starts to move from around me and it comes to rest behind his head.

He's always so calm...

I stop myself before the thought finishes. I wouldn't be able to place a word there fittingly anyway. I can't think about him like that, can I? We're friends. Right? It would be awkward, but stopping to think about everything that's happened in the last two weeks, looking in, it all would have been a bit awkward; some occasions more so than others. What if we're... More than friends? Is that what he wants? That's what I want sometimes...

"In case you haven't noticed..."

Maybe he thinks so. Maybe I think so, too. Too much thinking, is what I think.

ooOIOoo

I watch Allen stand up stiffly, and I lower the can from my lips. He turns on the TV, his soda in hand, and leaves back into the kitchen. I hear him throw it away and pop another open, and when he comes and sits back down, it immediately hits the table, and he flops back against the sofa.

I lean up, my elbows on my knees. "Uh, Allen? You okay there, little buddy?"

I hear him release a long sigh, "We have math homework, don't we." It's not a question.

I flop backwards too, at the memory. "We do."

I grunt and he sighs simultaneously. He stands limply, not even bothering to try and control his arms. He manages to walk back into his room and I glance over the back of the couch to watch him grab his backpack from in front of his door.

"Grab mine too?" I shout back to him. I hear him scoff in reply, and once he returns with both of our bags, I'm pretending to be curled up asleep on the couch. Without even missing a beat, he sits in the hole behind my knees formed with the back of the sofa. I try my best to hold back a laugh, but he ignores me and continues to dig through his backpack for the assignment.

"You're no fun," I tell him, finally sitting up once he starts his work.

"Lavi, homework. I'm not taking it when you blame it on me... Again."

I sigh. I did have a notorious habit of telling the teacher that it was Allen's fault I couldn't finish my homework but he hardly ever believed me anyway. I managed to remove my legs out from under Allen and he dropped onto the cushions, making me snicker. He's so short.

I drag my bag to me and scrape out the pages I need. Words cannot describe how glad I was that we were in the same Algebra 2 class. I wasn't very good in math. I was the history nerd, he was the math geek, and that's how it went. We were equally decent in reading and writing, so with our combined intelligence, we got the job done. I hardly ever did homework anyway, so my grade appreciated it.

We each started on our homework. By now, we had a routine. I would start at the last problem and work my way to the first, and he would start at the top and work normally. I would pause and ask for help occasionally, and he would help me, and then we'd look over each other's for mistakes. He knew the big stuff, but I remembered the small things, and sometimes I would even catch him tripping up. Not very often, though.

It was about an hour later when our homework was finished and around four in the afternoon. Too early to go to bed, but not too late for a nap...

I yawn and stretch out across the couch, inadvertently tossing my feet into Allen's lap as he stares at the TV blankly. When my heels slap down onto his knees, I feel him turn to me. What expression he's wearing, however, I can't tell; my eye is already closed, and I'm half asleep, but I hear him sigh my name with a slight scoff. I smirk and drift off.

When I come to, I'm curled up on my side, facing the coffee table. I groan and sit up to find Allen, leaning on my legs, his good arm folded under his chin as a pillow. His legs are still kicked off the couch but it's obvious he's asleep. I can't move to get a marker, so I find it best just to wake him up.

Trying to stay as still as possible, I lean up and poke him in the nose. He fidgets, but doesn't wake. I try it again, my face steadily getting closer to his. Still nothing. Once more and I'm right in his face. His eyes flutter open behind his hair and I smirk deviously at him. It takes him a moment to realize our noses are only centimeters away from touching, but when he does, he almost falls off the couch, arms flailing.

"Ah!? L-Lavi! Was that necessary?" He rubs his nose against his sleeve, seemingly wondering if I left any damage. I almost fall off the couch too, but for a different reason.

I have to hold my stomach, afraid it'd burst if I didn't because I'm laughing so hard. The way he jumped? Priceless! I'd do it again if I had the chance.

"Ha, Short-stack! You should'a seen your face! Oh go- Ah geeze!" I'm choking between bits of laughter, and when I finally manage to pry my eye open and wipe it clean of tears, he's glaring at me.

"It's Allen," he mumbles furiously. "Please don't do that again."

"No promises, Beansprout," I tell him, starting to settle down.

"My name is Allen!" He yells, fists clenched at his sides. I start laughing again, but I manage to rein it in before it becomes uncontrollable. I watch him pant for a moment before holding my hands up in defeat.

"Okay, okay. Geeze, Allen. Calm down, I was just having a joke."

He sighs in relief and pats his hands together. "That's better."

I manage a snort of amusement, "You're cute when you're angry."

Suddenly his face goes blank and he turns to me, like he couldn't believe I said what I did. When I don't say anything else, his face starts to redden, and he turns back to stare at the coffee table. "Well, cut it out."

I snort at him again, in humor of course. "No promises," I smirk.

He crosses his arms over his chest and his stomach begins to roar like a tiger. Now he smirks, and turns to me slowly. "Hey, uh, what do we got in the kitchen for dinner? I guess we were out for a while."

That's when I finally think to look for a clock. We fell asleep around four, and now it's almost seven. Whoa, long nap.

I start thinking about what's in the fridge and pantry, taking an inventory. "Um, some chocolate chips, soda, tomato soup, and I think instant rice," I list off, rubbing the back of my neck. "Not much, is it? Hey, we could invent something! Chocolate and tomato soup...! With rice!"

Allen shakes his head. "I guess we're eating out again then," he sighs. "I'll pay. I eat most of it anyway." He laughs nervously and stands, finding his shoes by the door and slipping into them. I laugh as I sneak back into my room for my shoes and eye patch. "I'm just glad it's close by. I've never lived this close to a restaurant before, you lucky bastard. And with your appetite!" I doubt he can hear me, but I just pretend that he does. I return to the living room where he's waiting by the door, adjusting his sleeve and glove.

I open the door while he's busying himself, and bow as I direct him through, "Ladies first."

He chuckles, "Then by all means," he says, gesturing out the door. I smirk at him, slightly impressed at his rebound. "Why thank you, kind sir." I push him towards the door and he goes with it, walking out before me. I close it behind me, and I realize that they hardly ever lock the front door. I decided to turn it into conversation.

"Hey Allen? How come you never look the door?"

He shrugs and starts to laugh, "Because there's nothing in there worth stealing, and the neighborhood knows that. Besides, I think Cross is hoping for something to get stolen so he can lie about the value to the police, and maybe get some money for it. But, nothing is insured, so I don't know why he'd bother. Probably one of his drunken ideas..."

I start to laugh. "How often is he drunk," I ask. He never seems too drunk when he's around. He drives and all.

"Almost all the time. I've only ever seen him completely sober twice. He's scary when he's not drunk." I see him visibly shudder at the thought. I wonder what makes him so scary? I don't mention it though.

"So? Allen! You ever been drunk?" I ask him completely light-hearted, trying to squeeze another laugh out of this. He turns to me, shocked.

"What? Lavi, what reason would I have to get drunk? I'm underage anyway!" He huffs and I laugh at how defensive he gets over the smallest things.

"So what? You've never broken the law?"

"No," he scoffs.

"Oh really? All that time you spend in a bar? Gambling?"

"Well," his argument starts loosing footing fast and he crosses his arms. "Well, that's different. I didn't really have a choice. If Cross didn't work up so many debts..! And not many jobs hire at seven."

The conversation ball drops quickly from there. I can tell a touchy subject when it nears, and I don't want to say anything else. No one picks it back up until we've already sat down at the food joint and our dinner is ordered.

"Hey, Allen. Summer is closing in pretty quickly, huh? Got any plans? Scuba-diving lessons? Skydiving? Any new video games coming out?"

I sit back like I always do, my head resting back into my hands. Allen's cast is hidden discretely under the table and his other is sitting up on it. "Well, I can't do anything with this stupid cast, now can I? Two more weeks. Maybe I can cut it off sooner myself. Wanna help?"

He looks up at me, genuinely asking. "Allen," I begin, "If you need that thing on for three weeks, it's staying on for three weeks. End of discussion."

He sighs and slumps back against the chair. He looks like he's starting to plot something, and I note it, but don't press any further.

Finally our food comes. Well, Allen's does. He needs two waiters, each arms' full with plates to deliver his food. One brings my two plates once his is all here, one of them being only french fries. I start to dig in, and before I'm even done with m meal, I see Allen's innocence creeping up on me. "You going to finish your fries...?"

I look up to see every single one of his plates clear and stacked at the end of the table.

I drop my food and lean back, crossing my arms. "Okay, you've gotta tell me where you hide all that. It's like you leave a tiny Labrador in your sleeve..! I'd be shocked if he starved to death. Oohh, what's his name?"

Allen rolls his eyes at me. "Timcanpy. His name is Timcanpy," he says sarcasticly. "Now, about those fries...?"

I sigh. "Sure, take some."

Once I'm finished, Allen pays the bill like he says, and doesn't even let me look at it. That's a hint that it must have been expensive. Like I would expect any different.

We both stand to walk the way home.

We're both grumbling about being full, well, me more so than Allen, but the walk back was satisfying at best. The sun had almost entirely set and the moon and stars were starting to become visible. I was watching them almost the entire way home. On several occasions, Allen had to stop me from walking into the road or a telephone pole.

When we finally got back to the house, an idea hit me. "Hey Allen, do we have a ladder?"

He looked at me, confused. "What? Um, maybe. Probably leaning against the side of the house."

"Okay, hold on. Don't go inside yet," I called, running around the building. I found it laying on the ground, leaning up against the house. I nod to myself in satisfaction. Picking it up, I lean it against the house and that's when Allen decides to join me.

"What are you doing?" I start climbing up to the roof. "Lavi?"

"C'mon, Allen! Don't leave me up here alone!"

I hear him sigh and then the metallic sounds of the ladder. His white head of hair pops up over the darkness behind him and he slowly stands and makes his way over to me. I find a good slope and lie down, staring up at the stars.

With an almost sad smile, he lays down with his good side to me. I feel his head touch against my shoulder, but he doesn't get any closer, but I want him to. I want him to lay his head gently on my chest, where I can bury my face in his hair and wrap my arm around his shoulders.

"Isn't it beautiful, Allen? Betcha' never though of coming up here, huh?" I feel him shake his head. Before I can really notice, my hand has found his and I'm slowly painting circles in his palm with my finger, and tracing the creases of his skin. I don't dare look over to see his reaction, but when his fingers slide in between mine, I release the breath I didn't know I was holding.

"Do you know any of the animal things," Allen asks.

I chuckle lightly, "You mean constellations?"

He nods.

"Yeah. I know some of them. Not all of them are animals. Like that one?" I point out three very bright stars in an almost perfect line with my unoccupied hand. "That's Orion's belt. The rest of him's there, but it's hard to see. Um..."

Finding another, I trace the "Y" that it forms with my finger. "That shape right there? That's Taurus; the bull. And that thing right in between his horns is Jupiter."

"Really?" His eyes don't leave the bright light of the other planet. "But that's so far away..."

I have to smile at him. "I know. Weird, huh? I don't get it either. Let's see, what other ones..."

"Lavi," Allen asks gingerly. I can't help but turn to look at him at the tone of his voice and my heart stops. His silver eyes simply soak up the light from the stars and bottle it, hiding it right behind his irises, and from there, it shines. I've never seen that kind of brilliance before. It was heart-wrenching.

Without my permission, my hand slipped from Allen's, and it moved to hold me up over him. My other falls delicately around his cheek and his entire face flushes in the near-darkness, but his eyes never release that light. He moves to look away nervously, but I don't let him. Bringing him back to face me, my lips fall to brush against his. I can almost feel the heat emanating from his face. A small whimper leaves his lips and mine descend to capture his gently.

I feel him start to lean up into it, but I pull back almost immediately. Certainly wouldn't want to scare him away. I fall onto my back once again and return to drawing patterns and tracing in his hand.

Whether we work out or not, I want to remember this. I'm pleasantly surprised when Allen rolls into me and finally rests his head on my chest. His casted arm follows, falling onto my stomach (mostly because there's no where else for it to go) and I pull him into me further. We watch the stars indefinitely, and in what seems like an eternity later, Allen starts snoring softly into his cast.

I laugh light-heartedly, wondering whether I should wake him or join him.

And another chapter draws to a close. I'm starting to lose faith in this very quickly... Someone better stop me before I give up. Or fuck it, and keep writing, and turn this thing into a pile of shit inadvertently... I'm known for doing that... If you guys really want me to continue this, speak up, or else there might only be a chapter or two left. Just to really dig it in, I'll end with a cliff-hanger, too. Take that!

Yeah, yeah; I'm mean, I know. You'll get over it.