The moon is a loyal companion.It never leaves. It’s always there, watching, steadfast, knowing us in our light and dark moments, changing forever just as we do. Every day it’s a different version of itself. Sometimes weak and wan, sometimes strong and full of light. The moon understands what it means to be human.Uncertain. Alone. Cratered by imperfections.But there’s something about the darkness, the stillness of this hour, that creates a language of its own. There’s a strange kind of freedom in the dark; a terrifying vulnerability we allow ourselves at exactly the wrong moment, tricked by the darkness into thinking it will keep our secrets. We forget that the blackness is not a blanket; we forget that the sun will soon rise. But in the moment, at least, we feel brave enough to say things we’d never say in the light.Every person has the power to change their fate if they are brave enough to fight for what they desire more than anything.Hope is a pocket of possibility.The magician is holding it in his hand.Hope.It’s like a drop of honey, a field of tulips blooming in the springtime. It’s a fresh rain, a whispered promise, a cloudless sky, the perfect punctuation mark at the end of a sentence. And it’s the only thing in the world keeping him afloat. Not everyone gets a true ending. There are two types of endings because most people give up at the part of the story where things are the worst, where the situation feels hopeless. But that’s when hope is needed most. only those who persevere can find their true ending.Happy endings can be caught, but they are difficult to hold on to. They are dreams that want to escape the night. They are treasure with wings. They are wild, feral, reckless things that need to be constantly chased, or they will certainly run away. Words are like seeds planted into our hearts at a tender age. They take root in us as we grow, settling deep into our souls. The good words plant well. They flourish and find homes in our hearts. They build trunks around our spines, steadying us when we’re feeling most flimsy; planting our feet firmly when we’re feeling most unsure. But the bad words grow poorly. Our trunks infest and spoil until we are hollow and housing the interests of others and not our own. We are forced to eat the fruit those words have borne, held hostage by the branches growing arms around our necks, suffocating us to death, one word at a time. And he couldn’t help fearing the acknowledgement of his sappy besotted feeling for the shabbily dressed adorable man at his side.Fear was a poison that people mistook as protection. Making choices to stay safe could be just as treacherous. Occasionally, there are minutes that get extra seconds. Moments so precious the universe stretches to make additional room for them. Laying curled up to his sole companion in a world of fantasy. His warm breaths courting his ivory skin. Long hair draping from his kneck to the expanse of his arms. Dreams that come true can be beautiful, but they can also turn into nightmares when people won’t wake up. No one is truly honest. Even if we don’t lie to others, we often lie to ourselves. It’s all right to love someone who doesn’t love you back, as long as they’re worth you loving them. As long as they deserve it.And the word good means different things to different people. People aren’t born good or bad. Maybe they’re born with tendencies either way, but its the way you live your life that matters.Hope is a powerful thing. Some say it’s a different breed of magic altogether. His heart was still a little heavy, but he’d decided carrying it around would only make him stronger. The future knows what things we desire, unless there is something greater in our path that chases us away. He believed there are far more possibilities than happily ever after or tragedy. Every story has the potential for infinite endings. Some would probably call him a villain. Others would say his magic makes him closer to a god. Magicians weren’t dangerous because they were evil; the magicians were dangerous because they couldn’t tell the difference between evil and good. The man just a whisper away smelled of magic and heartbreak, and something about the combination made her think that despite what he claimed, he wanted to be her hero. Quentin was the starlight to his darkness. This was why love was so dangerous. Love turn the whole world into a garden, so beguiling it was easy to forget that rose petals were as ephemeral as feelings, eventually they would wilt and die, leaving nothing but the thorns. Yet, heused to be scared of it, but now he thought love is another type of magic. It makes everything brighter, it makes people who have it stronger, it breaks rules that aren’t supposed to exist, it’s infinitely valuable. Every butterfly in the world has migrated to Elliot’s stomach blanketed into a smart patterned suit jacket. Love is a heartless bastard. That smile of his enough to crack apart the boy with curly onyx hair’s spine. He looks immaculate.Flawless, especially as he stands here among the dirt and destruction, surrounded by the bleakest colors this landscape has to offer. He’s a vision of hazel and ivory, silhouetted in the moonlight in the most deceiving way. He could be glowing. “Is this the part where you start tearing off strips of your shirt to bind my wounds? After all, Looking Better in Black Than the Widows of our Enemies Since the late 80s.There’s plenty of sense in nonsense sometimes, if you wish to look for it.“ the man teased as his hands pressed gently against the sword opened wound. It was worth it to be so close and to tease a slight blush onto the apples of his cheeks. “You certainly have a weird way of finding me attractive.”
