Theea
one day, I'll be out of time
And I just wanna feel alive
And I just wanna feel alive
I snort at her comment about Jack, and the sound surprises even me with how fond it is.
“I’ve already made a mental note to stay on his good side,” I say with a crooked grin. “Which, as far as I can tell, mostly involves not being annoying and drinking whatever he gives me without complaining.”
I glance at her again, watching the way she talks about him—warm, sure, in that way you don’t fake even if he insists he’s no kind of father. It surprises me, but I don’t judge. I’ve only seen the surface of him. Just like I’m sure people have only ever seen the surface of me.
“I really do appreciate the invite, though. Especially if it’s usually your sister’s thing.” My smile softens. “It’ll be nice to go out with someone that isn’t my mom. No offense to her, we always had a good time, but… She’s my mom.”
I catch the wind tugging at Calypso’s hair as she starts talking about the stars, and for a moment, I forget to keep searching. I just… listen.
“You grew up in the stars,” I blink at her, properly dazzled. “That’s really damn cool.”
My brain skips to the stories I used to hoard, like treasures. Ronin and Vanya sailing the cosmos together, his death turned into starlight. I used to imagine what that was like—floating in the sky, watching the world like it was a bedtime story meant just for you. But I never thought about the other side of it. How it might feel kind of like what I know: watching, but never quite living. Being outside the world, instead of in it.
I glance at her again, something unspoken and kind humming between us.
“That’s… pretty relatable, actually,” I say quietly.
And then I remember the house, remember we’re supposed to be looking, and I blink, coming back to myself. I scan the trees again, slow my steps, and then laugh as it hits me. “Ah, shit. I think I’ve been going the wrong direction from the tree marker.” I turn and point back down the beach toward where we came from. “The big lightning-struck palm tree—that’s where I always started.”
I turn around, retracing our footsteps in the sand, boots kicking up little puffs of sea-washed grit. “Sorry,” I toss back to her with a rueful grin. “It’s just been a while. We left when I was like… seven? Everything’s taller now.”
The sea breeze picks up again as I keep walking, and I draw the jacket tighter around myself.
“Honestly, I’m not even sure if the house is still standing,” I admit, glancing back at her. “But I hope it is. I don’t think I have a single bad memory from it. Just… warmth. Safety. Belonging.” A pause. Then I add, with a rueful smirk, “Feels kind of rare, doesn’t it? Belonging.”
“I’ve already made a mental note to stay on his good side,” I say with a crooked grin. “Which, as far as I can tell, mostly involves not being annoying and drinking whatever he gives me without complaining.”
I glance at her again, watching the way she talks about him—warm, sure, in that way you don’t fake even if he insists he’s no kind of father. It surprises me, but I don’t judge. I’ve only seen the surface of him. Just like I’m sure people have only ever seen the surface of me.
“I really do appreciate the invite, though. Especially if it’s usually your sister’s thing.” My smile softens. “It’ll be nice to go out with someone that isn’t my mom. No offense to her, we always had a good time, but… She’s my mom.”
I catch the wind tugging at Calypso’s hair as she starts talking about the stars, and for a moment, I forget to keep searching. I just… listen.
“You grew up in the stars,” I blink at her, properly dazzled. “That’s really damn cool.”
My brain skips to the stories I used to hoard, like treasures. Ronin and Vanya sailing the cosmos together, his death turned into starlight. I used to imagine what that was like—floating in the sky, watching the world like it was a bedtime story meant just for you. But I never thought about the other side of it. How it might feel kind of like what I know: watching, but never quite living. Being outside the world, instead of in it.
I glance at her again, something unspoken and kind humming between us.
“That’s… pretty relatable, actually,” I say quietly.
And then I remember the house, remember we’re supposed to be looking, and I blink, coming back to myself. I scan the trees again, slow my steps, and then laugh as it hits me. “Ah, shit. I think I’ve been going the wrong direction from the tree marker.” I turn and point back down the beach toward where we came from. “The big lightning-struck palm tree—that’s where I always started.”
I turn around, retracing our footsteps in the sand, boots kicking up little puffs of sea-washed grit. “Sorry,” I toss back to her with a rueful grin. “It’s just been a while. We left when I was like… seven? Everything’s taller now.”
The sea breeze picks up again as I keep walking, and I draw the jacket tighter around myself.
“Honestly, I’m not even sure if the house is still standing,” I admit, glancing back at her. “But I hope it is. I don’t think I have a single bad memory from it. Just… warmth. Safety. Belonging.” A pause. Then I add, with a rueful smirk, “Feels kind of rare, doesn’t it? Belonging.”
look mama, i can fly
