“I’m sorry,” I finally say. “That you don’t get to choose for yourself.” He glances up to the sky briefly, sunlight glinting in those violet eyes. “Do moons choose the planets they orbit? Do planets choose their stars? Who am I to deny gravity, Aurora? When you shine brighter than any constellation in the sky?” I look at this strange boy beside me. It would be so easy to simply see him as a weapon. A beautiful one, sure. But
