As the start of fall approached, I found myself increasingly frantic. By day, my thoughts vacillated between the minor focus my daily chores required and my anxiety about the impending motorcycle ride to the city. By night, I mined constantly. It didn't matter that I had hit the bottom of the mine, the regularity of it gave me a stability that I clung to. On my way to the mines every night, I kept up appearances with Sebastian.

He seemed more talkative now, but that was maybe because of my relative silence. I didn't say much these days; it was apparent to me now that my mouth was a traitor.

He told me about the comics he was reading, how his mother almost threw some away. He ranted about Demetrius, and I soothed and consoled him with small reassurances. He lamented how his room was windowless and gloomy, he confided in me about his lack of cooking skills. He seemed amused that my own cooking skills were about as good as his; I had a collection of recipes, but never had tried my hand at making any of them. A part of me wondered if there was any point in me even trying to learn how to cook. Raw veggies still sated my hunger, even if they didn't taste the best.

We were just filling the space, keeping a buzz in the air. It was obvious what weighed heavily on both of our minds as we hurtled through the days and nights.

And just like that, summer ended. Tonight was the dance of the Moonlight Jellies.

I had to admit that a modicum of excitement came to me. This was a festival after all that Sebastian didn't hate. Just the thought of that brought a smile to my lips, and I rushed through my morning, not even bothering to read the letter from Demetrius in my mailbox. Into the shipping container it went.

Evening came quickly, swathing the valley in a blanket of wispy grey. As I exited my house, I felt the nip of autumn just around the corner. It was a minor adventure in itself, walking through the Cindersap Woods and town to the beach. Everything looked different, more menacing in the gloom.

As I stepped onto the beach, I was struck by how quiet it was. Carried by the wind, I could hear the murmurings of the townsfolk gathered here, but there was nothing of the usual festiveness and light. The shore and dock were lined with people, all of them staring out into the blue.

I was not in a particularly sociable mood, but as I hadn't visited Sebastian earlier today, I was obligated to say hi now. I could barely make out his dark form on the pier against the rapidly falling night. He stood at the end, gaze trained out to the west. Unfortunately that meant walking by Sam, who stood with his back to Sebastian and his eyes looking east, and now north to where I was.

Steeling myself, I approached the dock. Of course, Sam had detected my presence, and of course, he sauntered into my path, stopping me from walking by.

"Hello, Sam," I said politely.

"Hi, farmer," Sam said with a grin. He leaned closer, conspiratorially. "I've been thinking about these moon jellies and how I can use them to play a prank on Sebastian."

"Is that safe?" I asked, furrowing my brow.

He shrugged. "Maybe."

"So maybe you shouldn't do it."

He was pensive. "You may have a point. I wonder if they're poisonous. Maybe I shouldn't push Sebastian in after all."

I frowned. "You would not do such a thing."

He shrugged again. "I could and I would. What's it to you?" I saw his gaze flick to somewhere over my shoulder and a knowing smirk crept across his face.

Before I could respond, a voice just to the right of us cut in.

"Is Sam bothering you?"

I was relieved to see that Sebastian had joined us. His eyes danced in the dying light and a tight smile held his lips. A breeze blew by, rustling his hair, catching in my throat.

"I can handle him," I said plaintively.

"If you say so." He quirked an eyebrow. "Anyway, the view's better on my side." He turned and gestured for me to come with him.

I made a face at Sam before following Sebastian to the western end of the pier. I neglected to look back purposefully. Let Sam think what he wanted.

We stopped and I sucked in a breath rich with the salt of the sea.

"You're right," I breathed, looking out past the Lonely Stone into the endlessness before me. "This is the nicer view."

I sensed him shift closer to me, and I was painfully aware of the heat of his body. "I thought I saw something moving in there." I followed his gaze. "Something big, something dark." I could feel his breath on my neck, in the fluttering of my hair. My pulse raced with dread and something more.

I inched back and bumped into him, his hands briefly wrapping around my arms to steady me. I hoped he hadn't felt me lean into his touch.

"Just trying to scare you," he smiled.

I narrowed my eyes at him, glad that it was too dark for him to see my burning cheeks. "Haha, very funny." I shivered against an icy breeze and I saw his hands twitch.

Although I knew that I should be enjoying the view of the sea, I stole a glance at Sebastian and suppressed a sigh. He did not look back at me for his gaze was focused elsewhere, vaguely, I realized, in the direction where Abigail stood. As though he had felt my stare, he turned back around to face me, and I could've sworn that we leaned into each other despite my misgivings, as though we were about to share a secret. I wanted to blurt out a question, to ask him about her, but I was afraid. There were too many possible answers that would pain me, and I wasn't a masochist.

The air between us was like electricity, but neither of us moved, and my heart ached from the tension.

We simply stared out at the moonlit sea.

I knew he felt it too, the strange and simple pull of the tide towards the shore then back out into the abyssal azure. There was something lovely about the unknown depths below and all the mysteries it held – an unattainable wisdom for the living and breathing.

"Farmer," Mayor Lewis called over to me, shattering the calm. He stood on the dock where the fishing shop was. "Is it time?" He gestured with a hand at the small wooden boat in the water by his feet.

"Yes," I called back. "Release the candle-boat."

There were murmurings of anticipation all around me, and I saw Sebastian crouch down for a better look as suddenly, a series of faint glowing creatures materialized in the surrounding waters.

I could barely make out their round, spindly forms in the gloaming, but that was part of their appeal. Their existence was not defined by their corporeal bodies, but by the sweet beauty that they rendered with them.

It was a pulsing glow, rich with the breath of life, but also hollow, void of its own set of emotions. As I watched the throbbing of light dance towards and away from us, I felt tears prick my eyes. My thoughts toyed with me, and as I gasped for breath, a heaviness stormed into my chest. I understood the uncomplicated beauty of these creatures before me, but just for that fleeting moment as they spun and drifted into patterns and mandalas in the midnight blue. Then suddenly, a hollowness filled me and I could see it with absolute clarity, the smudge on the universe that was my life. All that I was and could be were laid out in front of me, and at the centre of it all was my grandpa's farm—my farm. My decision, my indecision, all of it was the backdrop to the story of my life. And there, I could see a question in that void that surrounded and encompassed me, a question that struck fear and longing into my heart. I could not contain the tears which had overflowed, tracing rivulets of liquid realization down my cheeks, off my chin.

"Hey," Sebastian said quietly, and I felt his hand on my back. "Are you alright?" I hadn't noticed him get back up on his feet.

I nodded, but kept my eyes cast downward. "I'm fine."

I heard him rustling in one of his pockets, and after a moment, a tissue was held out just in front of my nose. I could not have missed seeing it even if I'd tried. "Here," he said gently, and I took it from him.

"Why do you have tissues on you?" I asked, my tears still cascading. I took a shuddering breath.

He looked away. "I brought them just in case. This is kind of a weirdly emotional event. I thought I might have to use them – secretly – but I feel okay this time. I'm strangely at peace."

I let out a loud sniffle that I hoped Abigail didn't hear. Sebastian said nothing as I dabbed at my eyes. "I don't know what came over me," I warbled, my voice thick from crying.

"It's okay," he said, "it doesn't matter."

"It's just, it's just that I saw it and felt it – how insignificant I am in this world." My hands balled into fists, the tissue tucked into the curl of my fingers.

"You're not insignificant to me," he said softly. I almost could have imagined it, but his hand pressed reassuringly into my back as he said it, forcing a fresh blossom of hope to erupt in my chest. "I know how you feel. The moonlight jellies fuck with my head, too," he said and I had to laugh, a haunted, shuddering sound.

"I doubt you reacted as badly as me when you first saw them."

He shrugged. "I was a toddler when I first saw the jellies, so you're right, my first time didn't elicit that kind of reaction from me." He let out a short, ragged laugh. "It was bad when my dad left, though." There was a note of strain in his voice.

I turned my tear-streaked face to look at him. "Oh, Sebastian, I'm sorry."

"No, don't be, there's no need." His expression was set, his eyes glittering and hard. "It is what it is."

The silence pressed in on us, cradling and swaddling us. Watching the jellies propel themselves out and away from the docks brought me an acute sense of relief, and I felt a shift in the air and mood. The glow of summer had officially faded into the crisp and crunch of fall.

When the last flickers of luminescence melted away, we let out a collective sigh, sober and suddenly aware of ourselves. As the moon peeked out from a gash in a cloud, the shuffle back to town began. Murmured good-byes rang out across the beach, grubbying the night air. Sebastian didn't move, and I stayed with him, knowing I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. Soon we were the only two left on the beach.

"You didn't want to leave with the rest of them?" I tilted my head towards the beach entrance.

"I wanted a moment out here alone."

I flushed in the darkness, thankful that the moon had hidden its face once more. "Oh, okay. I'm sorry, I should head back anyway."

"Oh, no, I mean, I don't mind if you're here." He paused, and I wondered if he too was grateful for the darkness.

I shook my head. "No, it's fine. I should get some sleep anyway. Lots to do tomorrow." I took a step towards the sandy beach shores, my boots giving away my movement.

He nodded woodenly, a sudden tightness came into his jaw. "Alright. I'll see you soon. Don't feel pressured to come by tomorrow since I'm sure you'll have your hands full farming," he said softly.

I nodded. "I'll see how it goes, though Linus sent me this recipe for sashimi and I've been needing someone to be my guinea pig."

A full-on grin broke out on his face and he let out a pure, unrestrained chuckle. "How did you even know that I like sashimi?"

"Lucky guess. I actually had no idea, I was just going to force you to eat it regardless of whether or not you like it or not."

"I might have to argue in defense of guinea pigs."

"Don't bother, it's a losing battle." I bit my lip and smiled in spite of myself. "Goodnight, Sebastian."

"Goodnight," he said as an errant moonbeam caught in his hair.

I swallowed down my thoughts and turned away.