Mituna is the very definition of a star. No, not someone famous - his achievements will prevail in anonymity if he has his way. Rather, he is a literal star.
He burns and glows with a power contained in a body that, by all scientific measurements, is far too small for it; energy curls under his skin and lights the eyes he no longer has, hasn’t had for more than half of his life. It sloughs off of him in waves, fills a room, comes back to him and brings him its findings, like a pet or a servant.
Mituna himself is all curls - long hair, impatient fingers, small and somewhat knobby knees, from how skinny he is. He’s been putting on weight, slow but steady. Your hands find the edges of his ribs, close enough to count them, the ticklish and sensitive ridge of his hipbone, the cords of tendon behind his knees, and at the centers of his wrists. You love to watch him type; even if he can’t see and could never read all too well before Terezi taught him braille, he knows the home of every key, and the sound and feeling of every symbol, a coding language written with the body inherent in his heart and mind.
That body is the most graceless one you have ever seen, folding itself awkwardly, often sliding or slipping in surprising ways, flailing, falling often.
But he is a star, and he is a brightness in your life, your savior, the troll you owe everything.
And you are hopelessly in love with him, but that took sweeps to develop.
You were never meant for one another - he thinks too much of his station, and of yours, you are too pushy in one way or another - but maybe in another life, in another version of this one, you could have been together?
He is good, and he is good to you and everyone around him. He is good to Karkat, to Amolin, to the twins. He will be good to Tiumia, he goes nowhere without Lillun.
Isn’t he beautiful? Shining and glowing and brightening the lives and worlds of every heart he touches. Lidoti babies him, the guards are a bit mean, but they’ve been backing off; you won’t tolerate them. Even Kannus, mad and evil, cannot hate him, you think. Maybe that’s frightening. He’s too pure, perhaps?
He is whole again, for the first time in most of his life, and you love how he melts under any hand on his back, into any hug, purrs and trills and the way his shoulders fall.
He will stay with you, loving living for the first time in his life, and that is enough for you, to see him happy and whole every night of his rebirth.
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