Final Space One-Shots

Drenched In Iolite

He could hear the sound of shards scattering.

Each shard glistened as they danced in the air, falling onto the floor and radiating a sharp tune. It seemed that the air began to thicken as his hands began to tremble. His understanding was limited, but he could hear his mother's screams from just outside her room. The door was wide open, and it didn't seem like she'd noticed Gary either. Her mascara ran as tears ran from her eyes like an open faucet. the palms of her hands were slightly tinted black, mostly from rubbing her eyes when she wasn't slamming things into the wall. Gary wasn't sure what to say. He didn't know what to do, either. But he could hear the pain in her voice, Her vocal cords rang in anger, hatred, guilt. She held his father's uniform, her knuckles white as her hands gripped it tightly. The bottle she'd taken earlier was now in pieces, a small cut on her arm visible from a shard of the bottle's glass. His throat had only gotten tighter as he gripped Mooncake's glass home. As he took a step forward, his mother's gaze darted to him. Her icy blue eyes looked dimmer than they used to be, her right eye twitching slightly. Gary's eyes widened, and he took a small step back. Getting up while still grasping his father's uniform, she staggered all her energy as she walked over to him. Her movements were all over the place—at one point she'd nearly tripped from how disoriented she was. As she made it to the door, her free hand had gripped the handle of the doorknob. Her eyes looked into Gary's, and a shiver ran down his spine. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could the door was loudly slammed shut. Tears began to brim in his eyes, and he looked at Mooncake. Minding his own business, with no need to worry about anyone or anything. He let out a shaky sigh, and walked back to his room.

It was a moment of his life he remembered almost vividly. From that point on, his small mind realized that something was different about his mother. Her distance, her desire, her grief. The realization that in her eyes, he was nothing to her. Maybe that's why she left. That reason still lingered no matter his state of mind.
There was still that hope. That small, lingering hope that in the end she'd come back, tell him that what she did was a mistake, and that all along, she loved him unconditionally.

But he'd given up on that hope a long time ago.

And as that tinted scent of orange, flames dancing freely throughout the home he once cherished—he realized that nothing would come good of staying there. He vowed that he wouldn't become her shadow. But either way, he'd be considered invisible in her eyes.

It was just something he had to accept.