“We’re doomed.” My fists hit the floor. My breaths shake as I stare down at cool metal being tainted by my tears. It’s over, I think. It’s over, and it’s all my fault.

I hear Nero gasp in the background.

“What is it this time?” I snap. “What—”

As I look up, my lips part, yet sound doesn’t follow. Endless stars, shapes and possibilities stand before us, and I cannot help but go silent at such a magnificent view. I’ve been craving this, I realise, for the anger I’d felt immediately dissipates once my gaze is lost within the scenery composed of dark purples and reds.

And I wonder, if he too had yearned to see it, to bypass this ridiculous ban we were all prisoners to once Earth’s government decided it would be safer for the ship to operate without a window in sight.

“What’s this?” Nero finally says, his voice painted with awe, his shoulders–once so tense–dropping alongside his hands that now rest by his waist. He takes a step forward and presses his hand to the glass. “It’s beautiful,” he says as the stars reflect in his eyes now filled with dreams.

“It’s our universe,” I tell him. “You were made from many of the things you see before you. And…” I chuckle. “It’s not going to go away if you stop looking for two seconds.”

Nero turns to me and smiles. He has the expression of a child that is only beginning to discover the wonders around him. “So, they are my brothers? My sisters?” he says.

I clear my throat and sigh, before leaning against my knee and rising once more. My legs feel heavy under my weight. It makes me want to immediately sit back down; and if it weren’t for the authority I’m currently trying to exude before him, I surely would’ve. “I-If you’d like to consider them siblings…” I shrug. “Who am I to stop you?”

It’s so different.

He’s so different.

The cold faces, my empty and monochromatic quarters, father’s unforgiving features—Nero is none of those things. He is color, he is light, and I find myself staring at him more than the brilliant scenery behind his figure.

Nero steps forward. For a moment, I flinch out of fear that he might come to finish me off. Yet, he only takes a seat and lets his back rest against the wall of cool metal.

The brief shiver I catch running up his hand—the way the fog around him and his skin turn from dark violets to clearer purples—both tell me that he surely feels the temperatures of anything he touches.

He intrigues me, even more so than before now, I think.

“I like it,” Nero says as he looks back to the view.

To this, I scoff, and roll my eyes. “Of course you do, it’s akin to a dreamscape.”

But Nero shakes his head. “Not in that way…” he tells me, his voice a little lower this time, his brows knitted together in what I know is definitely a frown now. “Because,” his eyes meet mine. He blinks once. “It makes me happy to know the place I will be protecting is a beautiful land.”