@alphabright said: “the way you observe the horizon... what do you see there?”
． ． ．It's been almost two years since Ryland found his way back home, but he's still getting used to it, trying to piece together a life in a world that feels exactly as he remembers and nothing like it at the same time. No one ever tells you how strange it is to miss a place you've never been and a friend you can never see again; no one ever tells you what it's like to belong everywhere and nowhere at once, forced again and again to make impossible decisions.
In fact, they never really gave him a choice.
The tide washes over Ryland's feet as he ditches his old converse in the sand, letting the water curl around his ankles like the memories he's still getting back. He's so caught up in thought that he doesn't realize he's not alone until Aurora's voice startles him out of his reverie - shoulders jerking, breath catching around an undignified yelp. His palm settles over his chest as if he needs a physical reminder to slow the frantic rhythm beneath it.
“Aurora,” he exhales, huffing out a self-deprecatory laugh. “Jeez - I didn't see you there.”
It takes him a few seconds more to process what she's asked. And when she does, his expression turns a little more sheepish; wistful, almost, softening as he looks out toward the ocean again.
“Oh. That's easy: Earth.” He flashes her an awkward smile, scratching at his jaw. “I know it sounds silly. Compared to the vastness of the universe, this blue marble is nothing special.” Like carbon and water, like the building blocks of life, in an infinite space there are infinite possibilities; but he'd been wrong about that, it turns out. Floating in a solar system lightyears away, he'd spent a lot of his time watching videos of the trees. When he glances back at Aurora, his glasses sit on the tip of his nose. “To you, we must be tiny.”
Yet his life had been forfeit to save the billions inhabiting it. And yet, he'd chosen to come back, only to say goodbye a second time to his brothers. Only to reunite with them under the worst of circumstances. (He's kind of getting sick of all this emotional whiplash.)
Ryland shrugs his shoulders easily, as if Atlas doesn't hold the world. “But I'm sorta fond of it,” he quips. “What can I say? I missed the view.”
