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LEO'S HOME was little more than a shed behind the bakery, one her father had repurposed after selling their house on Manigold Street. After her mother passed, he could no longer argue their need for so much space. 

The downsizing came within a moon. Of course, Leo was not asked her opinion on the matter, nor were her feelings taken into consideration. Because her face had been smoothed of all emotion, her father thought her unbothered by anything and everything. 

When she allowed herself to miss her home - its tangerine trees in the small backyard, its flowerboxes filled with her mother's herbs, the kitchen painted lavender because it had been her mother's favorite color - her blood boiled. The memories of that place, stitched between the wood beams, and ironed into the stonework and window dressings, had been ripped away from her. 

She rolled Millie across floorboards that creaked, in a room that smelled of mold. Where corners dripped with spider webs, and dust motes shimmered in fading bands of golden sunlight. Her room had once served as storage for the bakery's flour and sugar. A year ago, they'd made the switch from burlap to barrel, after a particularly resilient band of mice had chewed through the sacks, coating the floor in white-speckled prints. It was a disaster - the bakery had to be closed for a fortnight, the lost supplies restocked, the storage floor cleaned. 

After that, they kept perishables in the bakery where its more modern make provided better protection from starving rodents. 

Leo could still make out the scuff marks their tiny claws made in their attempt to flee the scene of their crime. 

"I think the white," her chair moaned while Leo pulled on the pleated skirt of an off-white dress. 

"Really?" She frowned, noticing a yellow stain on the hem. "But isn't it too..." Ugly? Try-hard? Not her? 

Leo always chose her dress based on practicality rather than style. As such, her wardrobe was contaminated with boring beiges and frocks, simple tunics with scooped necklines and leather ties. Basic boots with rubber soles, enhanced to withstand immense heat. 

With multiple ovens running in the bakery at a time, and Triad's merciless sun, rubber and softer materials like it, had no problem turning into puddles. Her shoes needed to be impervious to such things, even if she didn't get much use out of them otherwise. 

She released the dress, and flung aside its hanger. "No white." 

A sigh raised out of Mil's speaker. "No white, no brown, no navy. And you have no other colors. Do you plan on wearing anything at all?" 

"Yes." Eyeing the other options in her closet -a tunic so brown and shiny it reminded her of her father's dark, glazed loaves - a pair of trousers  - a moody, stormy blue with patched up knees and fraying stitches- and a skirt - black and to the ankles which would undoubtedly get caught beneath Mil's wheels - Leo spun around, arms crossed. "I just--"

Axion would stand out in his attire. Surely, Axion would stand out regardless of what he wore. His bandages would catch the attention of everyone in attendance, his presence, so reminiscent of the nobility would spark rumors about some lost Triadian lineage, and his affability would have people hovering around him like flies. 

Leo didn't suspect she was capable of causing such a stir, or whipping up such a spectacle, but she did want Axion to notice her. But all she had was drab fashion that had allowed her to go unnoticed throughout the streets of Triad for three and twenty years.

"I have nothing to wear." Her fingers curled around Millie's armrests. 

Outside her window, the first twinkling stars appeared in the sky. She would need to leave soon, in order to meet Axion at their agreed time. 

"Leo?"

She cast her gaze at her chair. "What?" 

The chair, sharing control with Leo, turned and rolled toward her bed, the shadow of which was long and slender and fell across her shoes. 

Under it, a sliver of fading sunlight caught on the brass latches of a very old trunk. One Leo tried not to think of too often. 

"Your mother's--" 

Leo gulped as the AI's voice trailed off. It wasn't often Millie spoke with softness, but as with all matters surrounding Leo's mother, she did. And Leo was thankful. The death had been almost a decade ago, but the pain at each mention, at each unwelcomed thought or resurfacing memory, lanced her heart anew. 

"If you wanted," Mil continued. "But the choice is yours."

The temptation to go rooting through her mother's things had been easy to ignore at first because everything at that time  - the sun rise, the eerie quiet, the lack of smiles at the bakery, had been capable of cutting her heart open and making it bleed. She didn't need trinkets and dresses and photo albums to do what the world so cruelly reminded her of every moment of every day.

But as time had passed, doubt had started to leech into Leo's bones and pick apart her memories. She wondered if she recalled her mother's face correctly, if her cheeks always dimpled when a smile rose to her lips, if her skin was as light as cinnamon, her eyes the color of honeyed dates - glistening and oozing warmth. 

The trunk could have solidified the details of Leo's mother that had started to slip. But then the guilt rose up, and what kind of daughter forgot how their mother looked? How her laugh sounded? How the lullabies had made Leo feel before she drifted off to sleep? 

Mil rocked away from the bed and the trunk buried in the darkness beneath it. "It was a stupid suggestion. Just ignore--"

Taking the wheels in her hands, Leo pushed herself forward. "No, you're right, Mils. Mother always wore such beautiful dresses. I'd just forgotten." 

"But--" 

Once at the bed, Leo reached down and dragged out the trunk. It'd been covered in a layer of dust, the leather cracked at the corners, the brass adornments dented. 

She took a deep breath and undid each of the locks. The lid popped open and Leo coughed as stale air floated into her nostrils. But not long after came the smell of her mother's perfume - vanilla with just a hint of lavender and she was a kid again, tugging on her mother's apron, begging to scrape the remaining cookie dough from the bowl. 

Tears came to Leo's eyes, her fingers trembling. 

"Leo?" 

Her breath hitched as she tamped down a sob. She shook her head. "Sorry, Mils. I'm okay. It's just...I miss her. I don't think I'll ever not miss her." 

The chair rocked back and forth, its wheels, and the floorboards, groaning. "It might not mean much, considering I'm an AI, but I love you, Leo. I'm here for you, always." 

With one hand, Leo wiped away her tears, and with another, she gave her chair a squeeze. "I know, Mils. I know." 

Peeling back a piece of cheesecloth that had been draped over the trunk's contents to protect it from moths, Leo braced. 

Her mother's things were all lined up and neatly folded. Simple rope necklaces with sea-glass pendants. Gold earrings on gold thread. Her mother's wedding ring. A stack of envelopes bound in scarlet cord, the parchment wrinkled and stained. 

She'd been told her mother and father wrote to each other while he was away training for the king's guard, before a knee injury earned him a formal dismissal and a trip home. Those letters must be what they exchanged during the early months of their courtship. Whatever words had been written, had been forever preserved in black ink enhanced to neither smear or smudge, were not for Leo's eyes. 

Her fingers slid over the fabric of her mother's wardrobe - coarse, heavy cloth for winter, light and breathable cottons for summers or for work in the bakery. Pleated trousers, shimmering, silk skirts. Dresses the colors of the rainbow. Leo could picture her mother in them, twirling in the kitchen and humming a tune, as she waited for the ovens to cool before she brushed out all the breadcrumbs and burnt bits. 

She'd strolled along the promenade, her hand in her father's, dressed in their best, and on their way to nowhere in particular. At the time, Leo hadn't understood why they dressed up to take a walk, and come back home sweaty and disheveled, but now she knew. The journey hadn't mattered, being together had. 

Her fingers curled around a dark blue dress, overlaid with white lace and silver molded into tiny stars. The neckline was heart-shaped, the straps purposefully flimsy so as to drape over one's shoulders. She held it up, delighting in the way the stars almost seemed to dance. She'd never seen her mother wear it. Must have been new, something she hadn't been able to wear before she'd died.

"It's beautiful." She breathed out and pulled the dress in close. The hemline skimmed her knees. A sudden bashfulness rushed over her, painting her cheeks scarlet. "But I-I don't think it's me..."

"I think it's perfect." To prove her point, Millie whirled around, facing Leo toward the standing mirror propped in a corner. "And if you can't see that," she continued, moving Leo closer to her reflection, "then you have worse eyesight than me and I have no eyes." She stopped at the foot of the mirror, the dress's dark color brightening Leo's complexion, the silver stars a pleasant contrast to her dark hair and eyes. 

Leo swept her gaze hurriedly from the mirror, embarrassment baking her cheeks. "Fine. I'll wear it." 

"Good."

No sooner had Leo decided on her outfit for the night, Mrs. Carroway, their long-time neighbor, burst into the little shack to help Leo get ready. 

*

Leonora ran her hand over the braid Mrs. Carroway had woven into her hair, each sleek bump helping to ease the nerves in Leo's stomach. She sat beneath the giant clock in Triad's central square waiting for Axion to arrive, then, having rethought her waiting, turned her chair around determined to go home. 

It was all silly. Her asking a veritable stranger to a party. Her attending a party in the first place. Her sweating beneath a clock, while it chimed out the time, alerting her that her companion for the evening was officially late. 

"Leo?" Millie asked as Leo continued to urge the chair forward. 

"I'm not waiting. He's not going to show, and I'm just going to end up looking foolish and--"

"Leo!" 

A crowd stationed in front of a few food stalls parted at the behest of a man dressed head to toe in rich plum. Ruffles, roused by the breeze, rose up angrily at this throat, while a coat, with twin tails waved behind him. His jacket was knee-length, and left open to reveal a shining black tunic with pearlescent buttons. His trousers matched his coat, though they were rolled up at the ankle, revealing matching socks and sleek black loafers. His face was again obscured by bandages, though this time they were black. Silver hair peeked through them, tiny strands framing his face. He grinned as he made his way to Leo, ignoring the many inquisitive looks Triadians tossed his way. Already, whispers were starting to rise.

"Apologies for being late." He dipped his head and bowed. "I couldn't, for my life, decide between ruffles and a cravat. As for my cufflinks..." Axion held up his hands, showing off a pair of silver diamonds, "such uninspired shapes. For a city that proclaims a love of fashion, the boutiques are surely lacking." 

Leo thought the cufflinks an elegant, understated look, but she decided Axion would pry no such compliment from her lips. Not when only hours ago, he was elbows-deep in dirty muck to pay off his tab. 

She narrowed her eyes at him, her lips pulled thin. "And how did you afford this new outfit and its subpar cufflinks, when earlier your purse was so light, you had to do commoner's labor to pay for your sandwiches?" 

Axion shuffled, his gaze dropping to his hands, before returning to her face. When he looked at her again, he was all smiles. Clearly, he had no intention of providing her with an answer. "You look lovely."

Of course. 

He had spoken no more of his trespassing, other than how it'd been unintentional and harmless, and a small matter in his grand scheme to try every sandwich Triad had to offer. Why would she expect honesty from him, when they barely knew each other? She didn't even know his last name. 

"Axion--" His name was barely a grumble, punctuated by a squeal of Millie's wheels.

"Stars too," he said and his voice was quiet, his gaze soft. Leo blinked, his tone catching her off-guard. With an even bigger smile,  he held out an arm. "Shall we?"

Leo, flustered and heated and bothered by nerves, shrugged off the gesture with a laugh and commanded Millie toward the Millstone Tavern where the night's festivities were to take place. 

The tavern was one of many in the city, a three-story wood and stone edifice with balconies where guests and patrons could drink beneath the stars. By the time they arrived, the sky was bruised, a yellow moon smiling upon them. The outside was festooned in garland - dark black leaves of the Burlas intertwined with gold rope and Mirthea blossoms preserved in wax. Lights swooped from railings and across windows. The smell of citrus doubled as the wind carried the scent from potted tangerine trees set around the tavern's entrance.

The hum of music filled the air, the notes some jaunty tune that allowed encouraged people to dance. Not that drunk patrons needed much coercion to take to the floor, or stand up on tables and set their feet to tapping. 

"This is--" Axion stopped before the entranceway, his fingers reaching up to stroke a silken burla leaf. "Wonderful."

"It's a celebration of the harvest. Even though the city imports all its food now, we still celebrate. Any reason to get drunk, I suppose." 

Axion nodded, and opened the door. "You first, Leo." 

Tamping down a smile, Leo urged her chair forward, and entered the Millstone.

Inside was just as breathtaking as the outside. Sea glass stars hung from rafters, melons and berry bundles sat in arrangements on each long table and across the bar top. Lanterns burned and sizzled. Laughter and drinks were poured in equal measure. 

A familiar figure sat behind a piano wedged in a corner, tanned fingers deftly attacking the keys, the tempo perfect, the notes each finding their home within the song's measures. Samira, Leo's former classmate, and one she had considered a close friend. 

They had practiced piano together some days, each trying to outperform the other. While Samira was pitch-perfect, her notes played with precision, Leo performed with a heart's swell of emotion, her notes crescendoing not because the music called for it, but because she felt it should. Felt the story beneath the notes ache to be told. But that had been all before Leo's mother passed and she'd learned the indifference of the world and its subsequent cruelty and her friends were no longer of any priority in her life because friendship, much like love, was incapable of lasting forever. 

Thankfully, Leo managed to make her way to the bar unseen. Though Samira had noticed Axion. Everyone had noticed Axion. He strode gallantly in -a knight come to save some long-suffering princess, absent the pristine armor, gleaming sword and trusty steed - puffing up his shirt ruffles, his bandages slipping over his nose. 

 A few people tossing back ales nearly choked. A game of cards stalled before a victor could be named and the dancing slowed to a mere drag of one's feet occasionally interrupted with the sway of a hip.

The crowd parted, onlookers eager to get out of his way, and yet stay close enough to take in more of this mysterious newcomer. Leo sighed, elbows propped on the bar top. She called for a whiskey cold, but the bartender too was too distracted by the man in all purple to notice her. 

When Axion finally arrived at her side, Leo nudged him in the ribs. "It seems, trespassing or not, you draw attention."

"My outfit's doing, surely." He leaned in, his breath frosting Leo's cheek. "Nothing catches the eye like ruffles." 

Leo smirked. She motioned to the bartender again, and this time, he came over, probably because Axion was beside her. "Two whiskeys, cold." 

Axion eyed her. "Whiskey?" 

"If I'm to drink, I'm going to drink. Not sip on some ale or gossip over a chalice of wine." 

"Fair enough." Turning, Axion leaned his back on the bar, his eyes scouring his surroundings. Now that he had settled at the bar, the stir he had caused seemed to have simmered down. The music, much as the wine, overflowed, yet some gazes still lingered. "It would seem someone else has caught a few eyes." He grinned. 

Heat rose to Leo's cheeks. She tugged on the tail-end of her braid, the heat having undone some of Mrs. Carroway's hard work. "That's...my mother was a beauty. I'm--"

"Here ya go." 

Two cloudy glasses were slammed down before them, each half-filled with dark, amber liquid.  

Leo slid one toward Axion. 

He raised his, and smiled. "To the harvest. Or to drinking. Or to whatever." 

Taking her glass in her hand, Leo clinked it against his. It went down bitter, the liquor's heat scorching the back of her throat. She knew the whiskey was meant to be sipped, but with how nervous she had been, and with Samira no longer playing the piano and free to roam around, Leo needed something to calm herself. 

Another song, helmed by reeded instruments, blared through the tavern's speakers. People who had stepped off the dance floor to refill their drinks or visit the restrooms, clamored back. They started spinning and twirling, a blur of pastels and sweaty flesh and effortless smiles. 

Leo hugged her glass to her chest. 

"Shall we?" 

She blinked, and then eyed the hand offered to her as though it had appeared out of nowhere. Like some extravagant trick used to woo, a showing of magick meant to wow. Axion waited, his hand stuck in the space between them. 

"You wish to dance?" Leo asked, and the voice that left her mouth was so timid, so strangely filled with surprise, she thought another had spoken.

"With you, yes." 

Giving her head a shake, her gaze dropped to her glass. The ice cubes were already melted having succumbed to the lingering heat of the day, and the heat created by so many people packed so tightly together. "I don't dance."  

Axion nodded, his arm returning to his side. "That's a shame, but I will not force you." 

"Thank yo--"

"Leonora Sneed?" Leo froze. "Is that you?" 

She turned slowly, recognizing that voice. It was the same one that used to hum along with the sheet music as Leo performed it on the piano. 

Samira marched over to them, a soldier readying to drag his prisoner back to their cell. Her naturally curly hair was flattened beneath a headscarf, one that blazed like a sun - bursts of orange and yellow and red. Her dark skin glistened with sweat, her smile as warm as Leo remembered. 

Having reached the bar, Samira rested both hands on her hips. "I never thought I'd see you at a party." 

Her words could have been venomous, but the tone was genuine, as was the surprise on Samira's face, and the lack of any animosity aimed at Leo made the situation all the worse. 

Leo looked away. "I never thought so either." 

"And who's this?" She snapped her head back to find Samira staring at Axion. 

With a flourish, he swept Samira's hand in his. "I am Axion, and you are the piano player from earlier?" 

Samira giggled. "Afraid so."

"It was a beautiful performance." 

"Thank you." Her eyes flicked over to Leo's. "But you ought to hear Leo. We used to practice together and I've never heard better piano since--"

The glass slipped from Leo's hand and crashed to the floor. Samira yelped and jumped back. 

"S-sorry--" Leo scrambled to clean up the pieces, but before she could lower Millie enough, Axion was kneeling before her, picking up the pieces and wrapping them in cloth. 

"Are you okay?" he whispered when the last of the pieces was tucked safely in the folds of the cloth. He passed them along to the bartender who promptly threw them in the trash. 

"I-I'm fine." 

"Oh," said Samira, gaze floating between Leo and Axion, "Albert's here." 

Leo's stomach clenched. 

Turning away from them, Samira raised a hand, beckoning a red-haired man over, whose glasses threatened to tumble from his nose. "Albert! Look who it is!" She stepped aside, as though Leo was some fattened boar being auctioned off to the highest bidder. 

Albert's eyes widened when they landed on Leo's face. She blushed furiously and all her hard work, her smooth veneer, her placid expression, her indifferent gaze, it all crumbled in the face of her two former best friends. 

"You're  here." His voice was cold and snide, absent the warmth of how he had for ten years, greeted her. 

Leo bristled before supplying a curt nod. "Albert." Gods, they sounded like veritable strangers and truth was, weren't they? After a decade of no contact, did Leo still know Albie and Sam? Were they still the same people who skipped school to go bug catching in the fields, who took illegal dips in the rivers after sun set, who gathered at Leo's feet, and gave Leo their rapt attention as she practiced the piano? 

"Who's that?" Albert raised his glass in Axion's direction. 

"Albie, that's Axion." Samira offered a smile, though it was not reciprocated. 

Axion extended his hand. "I'm a friend of Leo's." 

Albert snorted. "Leonora Sneed doesn't have friends." He hefted his beer to his lips and drank, his eyes never leaving Leo's. "Isn't that right?" Straw-colored froth stuck to the stubble above his upper lip. 

"Albie--" Samira stepped forward, wedging herself between the two of them. "Come on. It's been a long time." 

He ran a finger around the rim of his glass. "A decade, isn't that right?" He scowled. "All those years ago, you turned your back on us, and for what? To lock yourself away in the very place you used to complain about all the time." 

"Leo likes to bake," interrupted Samira. "Right?" Her eyes were imploring. 

"I hate it, actually," Leo blurted, her heart cracking under the weight of a truth, she long tried to pretend wasn't eating away at her. "I'm terrible at it too." 

Taking a step forward, Axion reached out, his hand inches from Leo's shoulder. 

Albert raised his glass, glaring at Leo from over the rim. "We all do things we hate." 

Leo nodded. "Yeah, we do." 

Samira took a step forward, a grin flimsily pasted on her face. "Hey, that was all in the past, yeah?" 

A snort came from Albert who slammed his drink on the bar top. "Are you really so eager to forgive her that you'll pretend you didn't cry for all those months after she stopped going to lessons? That she--" his gaze found Leo's, his face all harsh angles, his eyes damning, "--wasn't the reason you stopped playing piano for years--" 

Samira's smile fell completely, her dark eyes widened in shock. "Albie!" 

Leo turned toward her. She had never heard Samira stopped going to their lessons after she had, or, that she had given up piano altogether. Samira's family wasn't noble, but they were affluent, as both her parents were dressmakers and lauded as some as Triad's best. Gossip about their only daughter losing interest in the piano would have spread like wildfire, especially after Samira had wowed the king's court with an original composition. 

The slam of Albert's glass on the counter, made the both of them swivel around. "Do what you want, Sam. Forgive her. Pretend like you weren't gutted by her actions. Pretend you're friends again. And I'll do what I want," he hissed the words, acidic and full of sting, before turning and stalking off. 

"He's--" Samira's brow wrinkled as she rubbed her hands together. "He's just going through--" 

"I'm sorry." 

Samira's eyes widened slightly. 

Leo hung her head. "I know it's about ten years too late, and it's probably worthless now, but I am. Sorry that is." 

Samira nodded. "I know." She turned her head, eyeing the crowd reforming on the dance floor. "I-I should go see how he is." 

"Yeah." 

"It was nice seeing you again, Leo. Well met, Axion."

Axion dropped into a bow. "Well met, Samira." 

Samira headed toward the dance floor just as the song ended and the crowd cleared. 

"Leo--"

She whipped around and signaled the bartender over. "Why don't you go dance?" Her hands were balled into fists  in her lap, her knuckles red. They felt like they might bruise what with how hard she was squeezing them.

Axion's eyes hardened, a cool hollowness settling in their depths. "What about you?" 

She turned to meet his gaze, and forced the most pathetic smile to her face. "I'll have another drink. Don't worry about me, really." She gave the bartender her drink order and watched him stretch to grab a bottle off the top shelf behind him. "I'm fine," she said, returning to the words she'd fed her father, over and over again, after the funeral. She'd never intended them to be a lie, just like she hadn't intended them to be a lie then; she desperately had wanted to be fine, but with her mother gone, nothing had ever been fine again. 

Axion breathed out. "Okay, Leo. If that's what you want." He flashed a smile and gave her a quick nod before heading for the dance floor, the crowd eagerly swallowing him whole. 

*

The piano had long since been abandoned, the tavern emptied of almost all its celebrating guests. The bartender was left shackled with closing duties - wiping down tables, emptying trash bins, mopping up spills. Leonora watched him do the same tedious work that had been expected of her, and grimaced. 

She'd seen Samira and Albert leave together not long after their altercation, neither of them bothering to say their goodbyes.

Leo hadn't seen Axion leave, though she was sure he had. After hearing what Albert said about her, how could he not? 

Not a word of what Albert said had been a lie. Leo gave up on having friends, on the whole world, after her mother died. When Albert had come over wishing to play, she'd fake an illness. When she dropped her piano lessons she blamed a dwindling passion for the instrument and nothing more. Every time she got a letter from one of them, she'd thrown it in the trash without ever reading it.

She'd taken to her room, too sad and afraid to step outside it, and once she had taken over her mother's position at the bakery, she'd become too afraid that without it, all the memories of her mother she had left would forever disappear. 

"Leo?" 

"You were unnaturally quiet tonight, Mil." 

The chair's wheels rocked back and forth along the floor. "I wanted to give you and Axion some privacy." 

"Well, you can see that's no longer an issue." She swept her arms out to emphasize the emptiness around her. "He left."

"Mmhmm."

Leo raised an eyebrow. "You heard everything, I take it?" 

"Yes and--" 

"I'm closing up here soon," came the barkeep, who tossed a pile of dirty glasses onto the counter.  

Leo nodded, her gaze flicking back to the piano. "Hey, you have another one upstairs?" She pointed at it, and the bartender signaled toward the steps. 

"Second floor balcony."

"Mind if I--"

"Half hour, no more, no less." Then the man slipped through the door at the bar's right. 

Leo put Millie on auto, letting Millie navigate herself around the plethora of tables, and knocked over chairs, and spilled ale. At the stairs, the chair lifted, and attached itself to the railing, allowing Leo access to the second floor. 

It wasn't nearly as decorated as the first floor. No floral arrangements hung on the walls, no lights were strung up across the windows or dangling from the ceiling beams. A few lanterns burned - one in the hallway, and one in the large room, where at the center sat a second, smaller bar. Next to it, was a pair of doors, cracked open, that led to the balcony. 

The piano was tucked away in a corner, and when Leo rested her fingers on the keys, her shoulders relaxed, and the heaviness of that night fell away. 

Underneath a handful of stars, she played her mother's song - the tune she had sung to Leo every night before Leo fell asleep. She'd put it to music, adding notes to give the song depth when it felt too thin, adding flourishes to better accentuate the feelings Leo always felt the song was trying to convey. She hummed along as she played it, and could almost envision her mother seated beside her - smiling, her long, black hair teased by the wind. Her eyes watching in awe as Leo's hands glided across the keys. Her mother hadn't a musical bone in her body, but loved music anyway. She had always told Leo her music had been the best. 

"I've heard that melody before." 

Leo stopped playing. Axion leaned against the doorway, watching her. 

"I doubt it." She shot him a wane, wooden smile before staring down at the piano. 

"No." He shuffled forward. "I would recognize that song anywhere. I have a great deal of fondness for it." 

"Why would you--"

"The woman who introduced me to sandwiches was humming it when I stumbled across her backyard." 

Leo couldn't help herself. "You have a habit of wandering through people's yards without permission." 

Axion chuckled. "I suppose I do." 

A breeze blew between them and the stars winked overhead. 

Leo raised her head, her gaze meeting Axion's. "I thought you'd have left already."

"And leave my date behind?" He cocked his head. "Is that the kind of man you take me for?"

 "I don't really know what kind of man you are." 

He nodded, his shoes ringing out, each step taking him closer to Leo. "True. Would you like to know about me, Leo?" Another step forward, another ring of his shoe slapping against tile, another gush of summer wind, tangy and so achingly sweet. 

"What's your last name?" asked Leo.  

He smirked. "Grimstar." 

"Grimstar?" He nodded. "Axion Grimstar..." The name left a sour taste on her tongue, and an even worse impression. She wrinkled her nose. "It doesn't suit you."

A chuckle, full of lightness and mirth, poured from his mouth. "I don't think it does either." 

He was close enough now, he could reach out and stroke her cheek, or clamp a hand on her shoulder, but he made no movement. He stood still, his eyes glittering as they stared into hers. 

"And what's with the bandages?"

He bent his head low, looking up at her through eyelashes that were the color of the purest snow. "They hide a part of me that most people would be afraid of."

"Would it scare me?" 

"I don't know. I'd hope not." 

Tentatively, she reached up. Axion lowered himself onto his knees. "May I?" Her fingertips brushed the end of one of the bandages. 

He nodded. 

Slowly, she undid the wrappings, revealing skin dark and glossy and embossed with stars that moved across it as they did in the sky. She watched them blink and flit from one side of Axion's face to another. A comet streaked across the bridge of his nose. Several collided on his forehead, the resulting explosion a myriad of colors. Small white ones gathered over each of his eyes, making his eyes stand out, even though they were as dark as his skin. 

"Well? Do I scare you? Or do you find yourself intrigued? Perhaps beguiled by my otherworldly beauty?" 

"The boy who carries the stars on his skin," Leo said under her breath. 

Axion peered into her face. "Leo?" 

"I thought you were a story she made up. I didn't think you'd be real." 

"She?" 

"My mother. Every night before she put me to bed, she hummed me a song and told me a story about a sad boy who wore the stars on his skin."

"Ah." Axion dropped his head, and gave a derisive smile. "I guess I would have seemed sullen then."

"You knew her?" 

He nodded. "I followed her song to a window and found her kneading bread. Of course then, I hadn't the foresight to disguise my differences. She took me in despite how I looked and fed me."

"Sandwiches?" Leo giggled. 

"Sandwiches." 

They paused for a moment, the heat slick on Leo's skin, the air thick and hard to breath. Her heart, a riotous, rebellious thing, thumping away in her chest.

"I didn't think I'd ever hear that song again." His eyes drifted over to the piano. "And rendered so beautifully as well." 

Leo turned around. "Would you like to hear it again?" Her fingers wavered over the piano keys, slightly trembling. "From the beginning this time?" 

"Very much so." Axion pulled the piano bench to him, and plopped down beside Leo, their shoulders grazing each other. A chill passed between them, but it was a welcomed relief from the sweltering city heat. 

Leo began to play, and the nervousness melted away. Around them, a swarm of goldenflies emerged, landing on lanterns and gilding rooftops. And though the sight of so many goldenflies was incredible, Leo could only focus on Axion, on the man whose stars danced in time to the music she played, and the smile he gifted her, and only her.