I was his anchor tied to his ankles, holding him steady amongst the turbulent waves his relationship with Elion had. Through the highs and lows, I attempted to be the neutral ground on which Icarus could perch and rest his weary wings. 

And yet, as time went on, I felt less like the anchor that stabled him and more like a burden, pulling him down under the waves, preventing him from truly reaching the sun he desired. 

Or was I the notched arrow waiting to strike? As if tethered to him meant only handing him his downfall. Just one slip and the arrow would pierce his wings before he could ever reach the sun. But did I ever have that much power over Icarus?

For a moon had little control over the sun.

As was the case for Icarus, I had no control over what he remembered from our friendship.

The disappointment was an understatement. Birthdays alone were something I was used to before I met Icarus, but even last year, Icarus—despite being enthralled with Elion—still had the time to wish me a happy birthday. 

But this year seemed the end of such festivities. He hadn't even glanced in the direction of my window that night. 

I should have known that he wouldn't have opened the window or pulled out the tattered blanket after midnight. And yet, I still stayed up until five in the morning, waiting for anything to indicate that Icarus would spare me a glance tonight. But his light hadn't even come on until four in the morning and snuffed out by five. 

It stung, but it didn't surprise me, the image of those two dancing shadows plaguing my mind.

☀☾

I had run into Icarus the following morning on campus, at the coffee shop in the cafeteria. As I walked to the mobile order pick-up station, he was waiting for his drink to be made. He waved as I reached for my drink. Thankfully, Elion was not around him, or I might've ignored him and walked past him. 

"Hey," came his cheerful greeting. "Morning."

"Morning," I echoed. 

"It's been a while," he said. "How have you been?"

Normally, I would've said "fine," but it didn't feel appropriate on a day like today. 

"I...stayed up," I said. "Waiting for you at midnight."

His head tilted, confused, until I showed him the date on my phone. "Oh, shit, Arche. Happy birthday."

I bit back a smile. "It's okay; I went to bed. I don't think you were home—"

He didn't need to know that I knew he wasn't, that he had gone out partying, nor did he have to know that I didn't go to bed right away, that I saw him come home at nearly four in the morning and completely ignored the window.

"Arche, I'm sorry, I had to go to Elion's party," Icarus said. "I probably crashed right after. Can we celebrate your birthday next weekend?"

"Okay," was my hollow reply. I should've been petty and insisted there was no need, but I wanted nothing more than to spend a day with him. It didn't matter that he had forgotten all about my birthday, nor spent it atop that roof like every last birthday—I just longed to be around him.

He flashed another bright smile. "I'll take you wherever you want to go, promise."

"Okay," I repeated, almost tempted to tell him I'd love just to sit out on the roof again. There were at least ten books I hadn't told him about, ranging from the moons of Jupiter to the debate over Pluto's planet legitimacy. 

Icarus' hand patted my arm. "See you later?"

I nodded, watching as he walked in the direction of his class. With each step he took away from me, it felt like the gap between us was only increasing. Years of friendship cracking and shattering between us. 

Had we been doomed from the start? 

Had I been this dependent on him, leeching off him like some parasite that I couldn't bear the thought of being apart? People forget birthdays all the time; there was no reason for me to be this upset. Every excuse to avoid me felt like another memory dragging me down. 

Maybe I was like Icarus after all, chasing Icarus as if he was the sun, revolving around him as if my life depended on it. He was too bright, burning, and in the end, it wasn't just him but I who got hurt—chasing a sun that chased another sun. 

☀☾

Icarus had treated me to a coffee, a sliver of hope that our friendship still had a chance. And yet, I felt a fool, sipping an overpriced coffee he bought in front of him and Elion. He hadn't mentioned Elion was coming, but there wasn't any reason he shouldn't have been here. After all, they were dating, and I had no right in saying he couldn't be here.

While it had been a birthday gift, the coffee felt like Sisyphus' boulder, a punishment for even being around Icarus.

In typical fashion, I kept a low profile, only answering their questions as they talked to each other in the love seats in front of me. 

There was something different about the once bright and perfect Elion Montague. It was in the tells that Icarus had, the fidgeting hands that played with the zipper of his jacket, or the way he twirled the end of his hair when Elion talked. 

Icarus was nervous, and he had never been before. He had always been confident, overly so, that it had been his downfall in high school, letting the pressures of expectation weigh on him. But this was different than when playing college soccer was something he couldn't decide on, this was an uncomfortable nervous, and I didn't like this side of Icarus around Elion.

But they were anchored together, and I had no right to intervene, not when our friendship was already stretched this thin.