An Unfortunate Reminder

Ink spilled across the sky above; faint colors swirled and mixed into one another, flickering dots scattered all across; a masterpiece without a canvas.

Most would admire such a breathtaking sight, but it reminded him all too much of the one he missed.

Castor lay on the grass below. It felt less like a comfort than ever. He clutched a clear bottle filled with a fine glittery material the color of honey.

Her.

It was all he had left. A gift she had given him when she was still alive.

It's been exactly one year since Maia passed. Castor usually didn't try to think about it too hard, but today, the thoughts weighed on him like a boulder, and he caved underneath.

Maia was the sweetest luminite Castor had ever met. With beautiful, soft amber tones and honey-colored stardust, she really was a sight to behold.

The sky matched her eyes, the same subtle hues flowing in and out of everywhere, an infinite depth he could get lost in. He almost wished he really could.

She had a great sense of humor and was a total goofball sometimes, which he adored. She was always full of energy and brought out Castor's hidden adventurous side.

They shared mutual interests in the arts, especially architecture. The both of them would travel together to different clusters and excitedly comment among themselves on the layout and details of various places, and they often dreamed of building their own special home, just for the two of them.

They used to be so happy together. Why did it have to end?

I miss you, Maia.