Let the off-kilter beats of To the Moon and Back by Savage Garden fill your skin...
Her moved with the moonlight. He had one focus, and one only. To find her, find the one that completed him. Her.
He needed her. She would understand when he found her. She had to. They were meant to be part of each other, and he didn't have to hear it from any book or wise old man or teenage blogger to know it.
The music filled him. There were still a few people on the streets, the late hour not dissuading all. Some noticed him, the unearthly colouring and floating, lightweight movement, and flinched away, reaching for phones in their pocket to snap a quick photo, send a quick text. As they did, they'd drift a little further away, take a different turn, wary eyes tracking where he went. Never turning their backs until they thought they were a safe distance. He laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. Judgement was such an empty thing.
It was all he had.
Unless Her found her.
And soon, if the texts and messages found their way where they should, he would.
He would tell her what she needed to hear. What he knew she needed. She must also be so alone, apart from everyone. She needed him as much as he needed her. Together, they could fly.
Together, they would feel like they belonged.
Belonging. He didn't belong. He knew that, now. Not at home, not at school, though goodness knows he'd tried. Tried over, and over again, to make that simple connection with people.
And failed.
The moonlight bled into him, and any remaining colour bled out. He whitened into a bright silhouette against a wall.
A gasp reached his ears over the sound of the music. He looked up to see one of Them. The people who had remained so very distant even as he saw them every day, who never tried to reach past. Curls framed her shocked face, and she lowered the everpresent camera, seeking his eyes.
It was a mistake.
His light reached up to her, spreading up the walls. He watched it almost idly, wondering how it would move, what form it would take with this girl.
It didn't occur to him that he should care.
As the moonlight glinted off her glasses and enveloped her, he turned away, no longer curious. She would have been streaming to her blog. People across the city would have seen her taken over by his light. The alerts would be going out.
And She would hear them. And come to Her.