ephemeral

the introduction

Aster liked going to the park at night time. It was quiet there and there was always a kind of quiet peace that she could never get at home. There were no fighting parents, no awful news droning on in the background. She didn't have to care whether or not her sister was between highs. She could just be Aster.

There was just the night breeze and the stars with Aster when she sat on her park bench.

No one ever sat on her bench. Not when Aster went to the park, at least. But one evening in early August, there was already someone there. Aster wondered if the girl was new in town. She didn't go to the same secondary school as Aster and no one else went to the park after dusk.

Aster didn't know if this strange girl was some ax murderer, but she wasn't sure she cared. She wasn't going back home, that was for sure. So she decided to roll the dice.

"Hello," Aster said, sitting next to the girl, who turned around with a jump of fright. "You're sitting on my bench."

"I don't see your name on it," the girl said, a glint of amusement in her deep brown eyes.

Aster pointed to the spot on her bench where she had, in fact, carved her name. "It's right there," Aster replied, the same glint of amusement in her voice. "You don't have to leave, though. I've just never seen you here before."

"Do you come here often then?" The girl asked, sarcasm thick in her voice. Her hands grabbed at the ponytail at the back of her head until her brown hair, the same deep chestnut as her eyes, fell forward and framed her face like a curtain. The stick that had been holding it up got tucked away back in her pocket.

"Almost every day," Aster said with a nod. "Don't want to be at home."

The girl laughed bitterly. "You can say that again."

"Your parents?" Aster asked kindly, secretly wondering how old the girl was.

She nodded. "They expect too much of me," she said with a sigh. "I mean, I'm of age, I should be able to decide what I get to do with the rest of my life and whether or not I want to ruin it for the 'family's image'."

"Ah," Aster said. "That's bollocks."

"Yeah," the girl agreed. "I'm Pansy, by the way."

"Aster," Aster said with a grin. "Always lovely to meet another flower child."

Pansy snorted. "I don't know many people named after flowers, actually," she admitted.

Aster scoffed. "You must not be from around here then," she said. "I know about ten Daisys."

"I'm not," Pansy admitted, and Aster did not know why the strange girl who had sat on her bench was so willing to open up so easily. Pansy let out a heavy sigh and tears began to pool in her eyes.

"Are you alright?" Aster asked. It was a silly question—of course, Pansy wasn't alright.

"No."

"Oh." Aster patted Pansy gently on the shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's not your fault."

"But it is my fault I can't make you feel better."

Pansy smiled at Aster for the first time. "You have made me feel better," Pansy said.

"Good," Aster said with a beam. "You've made me feel better too, you know."

"That's nice," Pansy said. She looked up at the stars, entranced.

"The stars are pretty tonight."

"Yeah," Pansy breathed, still lost in the constellations. "That one's my favorite. Casseopia."

Aster turned her eyes to the stars and found herself just as entranced as Pansy had been. Tiny dots of white light shinning down on her, their fond eyes keeping a close watch on her. They flickered slightly as wisps of clouds darted in front of them but they were always there when the clouds pulled away from the eternal dots of starlight.

"I don't want to go back home," Pansy admitted with a sigh. She was staring at Aster, not the stars anymore.

Aster stared back at Pansy. It was almost like staring at the stars—it felt like the girl in front of her was eternal too. Pansy felt like she had always been a part of Aster's life. And though Aster would never admit it out loud, God was Pansy gorgeous.

"Do you have a choice?" Aster asked, her voice quiet. Aster knew the feeling of wanting to un away all too well. But she had no choice. Her family depended on her more than any of them would care to admit and Aster wouldn't be able to live with the guilt of abandoning them without a support system.

"No," Pansy mumbled. Glassy tears pooled in her eyes and echoed back the white starlight from above. "If I had a choice, I think I'd stay here forever."

Aster hesitated, then took Pansy's hand. The girl looked back at her with wide eyes until her fingers slowly looped around Aster's and she accepted that they were going to be there for each other.

"I'll be back here tomorrow," Aster whispered, part of her hoping that Pansy would decide to stay and not leave Aster behind.

"Then so will I," Pansy decided. She squeezed Aster's hand. "It was nice meeting you, Aster."

Aster closed her eyes as the breeze hit her face. When she opened them, Pansy was gone, no traces of her or her starlight left on the bench.