Do you know what I really like about human beings? The fact that they are never boring, no matter how repetitive they get — like that one joke, which makes you laugh every single time you hear it, regardless of how silly it is. And though human beings aren't particularly the funniest (for stray cats are), they are much fun if one knows how and when to observe them.

Take the Sun for example: she chooses to watch them during the day, when they are engrossed in their soporific tasks and dull routine. Let alone her unreasonable arrogance and hostile attitude that makes her detestable, not only to us, Creatures of the Sky, but also to human beings themselves. In my opinion, she just needs to be shown some love from somebody who cares, since I don't, and to seriously consider having another hobby to pass her time.

On the other side of the spectrum, there is my good friend, the Sky, who has been fascinated by that species long since their creation. She keeps an unblinking eye on them during the day and the night alike, caring about them as if they were her precious children. However, she seems to constantly forget that humans could be ungrateful gits, which often results in her disappointment and, need I say, anger. In my opinion, the Sky's kindness is merely a hopeless attempt to alleviate her pain a little - poor thing! And she as well has to find something better to do.

But look at me! I was taught by experience that the most suitable time to watch human beings is when the veil of darkness has descended, and that the best way to deal with them is this: be neither too close nor too distant, listen intently and say nothing. Thus you will have the chance to take note of every word they say, of every feeling they experience, and of every stupid little thing they do, instead of the tasteless daub both the Sun and the Sky get.

Yet in life you can nearly obtain nothing without having to pay a price of some sort. As for me, I am obliged to endure the perpetual torture of hearing idiots who claim that I am a disc of cheese, and fools who accuse me of turning them into hairy beasts every single month - or even worse, the children who think that I follow their parents' cars as they move forward. Those uneducated brats.

But overall, the technique that I follow has granted me much fun without having the need to interfere in any way whatsoever — except for that one night at which my interacting with a human being was as unavoidable as fate.

That night was freezing. And when I say freezing I don't mean the weather but the general atmosphere encompassing everything. It was as though all emotions were concealed by a cloud of apathy which refused to listen to the pleading of the tiny flicker down there. This made me so bored that I almost fell asleep when I was not supposed to. However, it didn't last long; for I saw a sudden blaze of fire burning fiercely in the far distance. Alarming and intimidating as it was, I felt something draw me towards it, so gently that the cruel fire almost seemed welcoming.

When I arrived there I fixed my gaze upon the source of the fire, and I am not ashamed to admit that the sight of the dreadful monster paralyzed me. But my fear was nowhere near the shock that struck me when I looked at what lay at the monster's feet: a quivering body clad in the most dazzling white... a helpless reflection of myself...

The monster was shouting and yelling words that I blush to repeat, and it puzzled me how I was the only one who seemed to hear its terrible voice that stabbed the silence mercilessly. What bewildered me even more was how the angel on the floor didn't even bother to defend herself. She was just there, crying silently into her hands as the monster hit her with his. This made my blood, if I have any, boil. And just as I was on the brink of exploding the monster left the room and left my helpless reflection to shed more silent tears, which I did not see but doubtless felt.

The angel pushed her hands against the floor and stood up. I watched as she leaned her body against the windowsill, her long, silver hair glowing with a familiar sheen akin to that of pearls. Everything about her was graceful and captivating, yet at the same time sad and pathetically miserable. Even her face bespoke a nature which did not suit the crude world where she lived. She evidently didn't belong there, and I couldn't help but feel angry that she didn't realize this, even though the truth was crystal clear.

But then she looked up at me. Something inside me urged me to look back, however, I did not. I was sure that if I let myself see into her eyes, I wouldn't be pleased with what lay in there, and I had always preferred ennui to any emotion if the latter was to cause me pain. And so I ignored her completely, despite knowing very well that she was still staring at me.

A few moments later I heard her clear her throat, then say in a polite manner, "Hello there."

I didn't respond. This wasn't the first time that someone tried to speak to me, and also not the first time that I refused to talk.

"I am not sure if you remember me," she went on, "but I'm the one who used to have tea parties with her dolls whenever you came. That was when I was little of course. But anyway, it's just good to see you again."

Listen intently and say nothing, I reminded myself.

"What's the matter with you?" she asked kindly. "You aren't quite yourself tonight."

The way she spoke to me was very confusing; after all she had been through during that night, the pain and the humiliation, she was concerned about my well-being, as if we were old friends and as if the monster who abused her did not exist? How absurd!

"Oh, you've seen what happened?" She threw a quick glance at the door behind her. For a moment I felt that she was capable of reading my mind. "He is a horrible person, I know. He never —"

"It," I corrected her in a flat voice. "The proper pronoun for that accursed creature is 'it,' not 'he.'"

I hadn't realized that I said those words until she emitted an excited squeal.

"You can talk!" she said, and cursing myself for straying from my usual silence, I decided to look straight at her face as a punishment. As expected, it was bruised and bore a sorrowful expression which even the light of her smile could not conceal. Both my pity and anger arose, but I wouldn't let that show in my voice.

"Yes, unlike you, I can talk," I said as lackadaisically as I could.

A puzzled frown creased her forehead. "I don't understand you. I can talk, can't I? Isn't this what I'm doing right now?"

"I didn't hear you speaking up for yourself, though," I told her with a scoff. "You just let it do that to you — you let it hit you, insult you, and you didn't say a word. It's either that you can't talk or that you're a coward, whichever you want."

For several moments, no reply came from her mouth. She simply stood gazing at me with something like shock upon her face. Then without a warning she burst into tears, causing me to genuinely regret my insolence.

"Listen, I am sorry," I said in a cool voice. The lack of discourse made it difficult for my words to sound as sincere as they truly were. "Now stop crying and let us have a sensible conversation. Perhaps then we will find a solution."

She nodded and wiped away the tears with her sleeve. "I just thought that you were kinder than this, that's all."

"Maybe I am," I said, "and maybe I am not. I will never know, because I don't really care."

"But you care enough to apologize."

"No, I'm merely trying to be polite," I replied briefly. "Now... why don't you leave the monster and the house altogether and live somewhere else?"

"I have nowhere to go," she said in a low voice. "And I hardly know anybody that cares about me. That's why I can't leave."

"Why don't you resist and fight back, then?"

She let out a somewhat sardonic chuckle. "Me, resist and fight back? Look at me, Moon, I am too weak to do so, while he is — I mean, it is far too strong."

"But there must be a solution," I said, irritated by her negativity.

"There must be, of course," she responded. "But probably we'll figure it out later at due time."

We didn't discuss the topic any further that night. Instead she began asking me questions about myself. Something in her sweet, dreamy voice made me feel comfortable enough to answer, and it didn't take me long to find myself interested enough to ask similar questions. Time passed quickly, and when the arrival of dawn was announced, I felt most unfortunate to be forced to leave, but I left with a promise to come back the following night.

And so I returned, only to find that nothing had changed. It made me wonder if the previous night was repeating itself merely for the sake of irking me. The monster was as vicious and heartless as I saw it before, and the angel was still as helpless. I wished she would shout, I wished she would fight back, but she did neither. I found myself angry with her preposterous lack of action, with this unbelievable stamina that made her thus. When the monster had left, I vented my cold fury through spitting words that were full of disdain and disgust. But even those she endured, and I couldn't help but think that she was not weak as I had believed, but simply too strong, which is a weakness in itself.

"Are you done?" she asked quietly when I had stopped reproaching her.

"I think so," I said.

"Good. How are you?"

"How — are you insane? After everything that I said and you're asking this silly question?"

"Yes, I am." She shrugged, as though challenging me to retort.

I looked at her face and as I contemplated the innocence in her countenance all my annoyance was subdued. I let out a sigh and said, "I am very well, thank you."

Everything remained this way for over a week: every night I come, the monster leaves, I get angry, I shout, she calms me down, and we converse until the dawn separates us. However, there was a night at which I could no longer bring myself to say a word of disappointment or frustration. I felt as if nothing and no one mattered but her, and instead of wasting time on being callous, I decided to do what none of my kind had done before.

"Do you remember," I said, clearing my throat, "when you said that there is a solution but perhaps we'll figure it out later?"

She nodded.

"Well... I think I have. I know someone who can help."

"Really?" Her eyes glinted with hope.

"Yes," I said. "All you have to do is to ask him for help. This is how it's done."

She remained silent for a minute, then looked up straight me. There was a smile on her lips as they opened to utter the words, "Help me."

I smiled back and descended the stairs down to her world. I stretched out my arm and let her delicate hands hold mine. Then I drew closer, although it was unnecessary, and kissed her forehead. And when she rested her head against my shoulders, I wondered if she felt the same solace, the same peace, that I felt. I didn't ask her, for this time the answer was clear.

"Are you ready to leave this all behind?" I whispered. "The pain, the sorrow and everything?"

"Yes," she said without hesitation.

I hugged her even tighter, and together we climbed the stairs to where we both belonged: to a place where we are neither too close nor too distant, to a place where we could listen intently and say nothing

****
Hello, everyone!
Since the Sky's Secret, the moon has become my favourite character ever, and I thought that he deserved his own story. The idea of this story came to me when I was studying for my finals (that's around two months ago), and I am glad that it has finally been written.

Hope you enjoyed reading it! ❤️