An Astronomer's Guide to Falling Angels

Chapter 2

As Astor and Arty approached the front gates of his grand, looming house, the familiar weight of anxiety began pressing down on his chest. His pace slowed as they reached the threshold, the towering iron gates giving an almost ominous feeling that never failed to make his stomach churn. He was grateful to have Arty with him, at least for these final few steps before he'd have to face the cold, quiet loneliness of his family's estate.

They paused near the entrance, and Astor shifted on his feet, not quite ready to say goodbye. "I really don't want to go inside," he admitted softly, the reluctance clear in his voice. He tugged at the sleeves of his sweater, the fabric stretched down to cover his fingers as he looked down at the ground.

Arty, standing beside him with her usual casual confidence, gave him a knowing glance. "You could just... not?" She raised an eyebrow, half teasing but half serious, her eyes glinting with mischief. "We could find something else to do. I could come by later—sneak in."

Astor's head shot up, his eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. "Sneak in? My house is practically a fortress, Arty. There are guards... and my parents." His voice dropped on the last part, almost as if the mention of his parents invoked a sense of dread.

Arty shrugged, her expression calm. "I'm stubborn, remember? If you want me to, I'll find a way. I've climbed way worse than your house's walls."

A small smile tugged at Astor's lips at the thought of Arty, defying all odds to sneak into his room just to see him. The idea was almost absurd, but with her, nothing seemed impossible. Still, there was a tight knot in his stomach when he thought of facing his family after the conversation he had earlier that evening.

"You really think you could do that?" Astor asked, half-joking but with a hint of hope in his voice. The thought of her presence, even for a little while longer, made the prospect of facing his family's cold indifference a little more bearable.

Arty grinned, flashing him that trademark smirk of hers. "Watch me," she said confidently. "But I'll give you a call later, just in case."

Astor nodded, the warmth of her assurance making him feel a little less alone. "Okay," he said softly, reluctant but resigned. He glanced up at the dark windows of his house, dreading the inevitable confrontation. "I'll talk to you later."

With one last glance, Arty turned and walked away, hands in her pockets as she disappeared into the twilight. Astor watched her go, the weight of his family's expectations settling back onto his shoulders as he reluctantly pushed open the gates and made his way inside.

Hours later, after the house had settled into its usual suffocating quiet, Astor was curled up in his room, staring blankly at the ceiling. His attempt at asking his parents for permission to hang out with his friends over the weekend had not gone well. In fact, it had ended in a stern lecture about "family priorities" and how his friends were "nothing but distractions." The harsh words still rang in his ears, and he was trying his hardest not to let the tears that had been threatening to spill over finally fall.

His phone buzzed, and seeing Arty's name on the screen was like a lifeline in the darkness. He answered quickly, pressing the phone to his ear.

"Arty?" His voice wavered slightly, and he immediately hated how weak he sounded.

"Hey," came her voice on the other end, casual and warm. "Tried sneaking out yet?"

Astor sighed, shifting his position on the bed. "I tried. But there are butlers everywhere... and the security guards are patrolling the grounds." His voice dropped to a whisper, ashamed of his situation. "I'm sorry. I couldn't get out."

There was a pause on the other end, and Astor could tell that Arty was picking up on the tension in his voice. "You sound... upset," she said, her tone softening slightly. "What happened?"