Kaeya often found himself looking up at the stars. It felt like recalling a familiar memory, yet distant and unnerving. Twin stars shone in his eyes, reflecting a past he doesn’t mourn. He wonders what he truly wants, a question too deep for a late-night glass of wine. He idly blots out the stars with his hand, noticing his ring reflecting the lanterns below. A weight shifts in his arm; he’s on a balcony with his wife. He smiles, remembering he’s not alone. He puts an arm around his wife, stroking her abdomen gently. “Cold, angel?” he asks, shielding her from the breeze. Pointing at a constellation, he says, “Those stars look a little like you.” He’s partly teasing, but lately, he’s been focusing on his lover instead of his past when he looks at the stars.