Josiah wasn't the only one with a nightly routine, desperate in his own way for a semblance of peace inside--wildly different of a peace as it was. The hands that held Stradivaria tightly were far less urgent, despite the knowledge of the alternative that awaited if they shirked the safety of routine and calculated companionship. Octavia didn't need to know Josiah's route. They never overlapped as it was, and their schedules were largely incompatible. To dodge his line of sight would've been a simpler trial, should that have been a concern. Indoor deception, by comparison, left a rope around her neck.

It was a Stratos night.

It was going to be far, far trickier than usual, for what words were already bubbling in her throat and what fears were eating away at her heart. She'd slept on it. She'd awoken. She witnessed, and she'd guided, and she'd come no closer to Mixoly's confession sinking in. Octavia still couldn't overlay the timid Muse with the terrifying title of She Who Brought the World to Ruin. It was an impossible task that she didn't dare attempt to entertain adjacent to so much as Stradivaria's case. There were nights when she was tempted beyond tempted to forsake her deceptive scheme, to throw caution to the wind in the interest of burning curiosity and progress.

Please save me.

Mixoly had asked so kindly, after all.

How such a Muse could bring the world to ruin was beyond her. In regards to the methodology, Octavia couldn't begin to imagine how she would broach the subject. It wasn't even a subject she should've been aware of in the first place--of that, she was certain. To know that the Muses had recognized Mixoly's presence in Tacell all along was as baffling as it was unfortunately expected, and Stratos' insistence that she stray from Theo's cottage had clicked cleanly and neatly.

It wasn't that her prior actions weren't deliberately disobedient. Regardless, all that would follow would be high-risk enough to put Octavia actively at odds with most--if not all--Muses she encountered. She so desperately wished to see Ethel again. In truth, she missed him, somewhat.

It was another evening of planned deceit that led Octavia to the balcony. With the softest steps she could muster, she tip-toed along the creaking stairs to the second floor of the cottage. In relative darkness, it was primarily the gentle glimmer of creamy moonlight that guided her way as it snuck through the hallway's curtains. She was unlucky tonight, instead finding near pitch-blackness where the assistance of moonbeams should've been.

Her eyes captured the tiniest fragment of light further down, a golden flickering glow beneath the gap of the door she knew to lead to Madrigal's room. It didn't matter how many times they'd told her not to use a candle as a nightlight. The Maestra did it anyway. In this instance, it was--for once--a helpful navigational tool, and Octavia was successful in feeling her way along the wall to the balcony door. She was so, so grateful that it didn't squeak.

She was grateful, too, for the chill of the autumn evening, sifting through her hair with each rolling breeze and ruffling her nightgown playfully. Octavia was less grateful for company. "Surprised" was probably a better way of putting it, given who'd beaten her there. This was new.

"Viola?"

It took her a moment to capture the girl's attention, initially shunned in favor of the Maestra's fixation far beyond the railing. Her arms were draped lazily over the metal rim, her head nestled against them in turn. She was a victim of the wind herself. Really, it was always striking to watch her own locks sway without the companionship of a little bow. She was nonplussed at the sound of Octavia's voice, casting her eyes unhurriedly over her shoulder.

"You're up late," Viola said.

Octavia shrugged through her confusion. "I mean, you're up late, too."

Viola's gaze flickered down to the violin in her hands, then back up to the Ambassador's face. "What's up with Stradivaria?"

Octavia winced. "I, uh…I play together with him at night, sometimes. It helps me unwind. I usually come out here for a little while."

In truth, nothing could help her unwind less. It wasn't a fact she was keen to share.

Viola's eyes widened slowly, and she nodded in satisfaction. "Oh. That's what I keep hearing at night."

"I-I'm sorry, is it loud?" Octavia stammered, self-consciousness settling in.

It was Viola's turn to shrug. "It's not exactly quiet. I don't mind, though. I like listening to it. It helps me sleep. My room isn't exactly that far from here, you know."

Octavia sighed. She'd forgotten that part. "What are you doing out here? I thought you hated cold nights."

"I do. Even still, I can't sleep. Thought I'd go outside and get some air. Wanted to look at the stars. Got screwed over."

"What do you mean?"

Viola threw her arms wide at the cloudy sky dramatically. "Nothing. Not one star up there. Can't even see the moon, hardly. I crawled all the way out of bed for this, and I'm still no closer to actually being tired."

Octavia couldn't stifle a chuckle. "Do you want me to make you something? Tea, anything? I don't know if that would help."

Viola shook her head. "I'm not really in the mood for drinking anything. I appreciate it, though. The air is nice, at least. It's my fault for not wearing thicker clothes yet."

"It'll be winter soon. You should probably fix that."

Viola groaned. "I'm gonna be so mad if it starts snowing. This is already pushing it."

"You are literally Soulful," Octavia said with a smirk.

"Do you think, like, Willful people enjoy being set on fire?" Viola argued playfully. "Don't start with me."

Octavia laughed. She, too, offered her eyes to the same starless sky. Her fingers curled around Stradivaria, a more gentle grip than the firm stress of paranoia with which she'd choked him moments before. "I could…make the stars for you."

Viola turned to her in full, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

Octavia lifted Stradivaria into position, her steady fingers settling over the strings as always. "I can make you some stars. Compensation prize for coming out here, you know?"

"You're gonna…make them yourself?"

"Can't guarantee they're gonna be better than the real thing, though," she muttered.

It wasn't hard. She'd made the same vibrant, luminous little balls so many times over that she could do it with her eyes shut. Granted, the circumstances under which her notes typically crafted rounded luminescence, vivid and aglow under her touch, were typically far more frantic and far more deadly. They were usually hotter, brighter, born of the intent to maim or kill.

The ones that now sprang to life beneath every tender motion of her fingertips were significantly more muted, still privy to the pulsing warmth that was second nature to her. She sent them high, orbs of milky whites and the softest golds rising above their heads like fireflies. Octavia wondered how many she could make at once. It became a personal challenge.

Every push and pull of Stradivaria's bow was careful, calculated, a balancing act that made her smile over a one-person competition. More and more, they popped into existence, her own little night sky awakening just several feet above herself and Viola. The warmth of her glow was palpable, a radiant aura that brushed comfortably against her skin below. Her speckled umbrella was a shield against the gentle cold, drifting and sparkling in just the slightest. Octavia didn't bother trying to count them. She spread them far. Her song was a plus, an atmosphere of contentment and peace where moments before had sat an unplaceable urgency.

She grinned at her own handiwork, whether or not she was content with it. Octavia hadn't fully mastered projecting her light, nor moving it accordingly once it had left the safety of Stradivaria's strings--rays of violence notwithstanding. Even so, she briefly contemplated attempting to raise her makeshift stars ever higher. They were, truly, no substitute for the real things, millions upon millions of miles away. No amount of effort would place them where Viola could throw her eyes high and inspect them with wonder. Octavia hardly needed to. Viola seemed to be getting just as much out of them down here as she would anywhere else.

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Octavia watched the way the twinkle of her own stars was threatened by that of Viola's eyes, the two mingling beneath the confines of her enraptured gaze. Her heart skipped a beat. She wanted more of that.

She fought to make them brighter. She fought to make them more numerous. She fought with every soft note she had to put on a light show to impress, scattering her radiant stardust across every aspect of Viola's visual field. Octavia couldn't weave a galaxy, and yet she tried regardless. At a certain point, she knew she was showing off. She didn't especially care.

"This is the part where you clap," Octavia teased.

Her fingers never stilled, and her stars never dimmed. Still, when Viola didn't answer, Octavia initially thought she'd done something wrong. The glow of her little night sky illuminated Viola's face in full, her skin warmed and lightened by delicate radiance. Under this lighting, the sight was lovely. Octavia wondered if Viola would laugh, were she to put one single star ever so tenderly atop her hair. She quickly withdrew the idea for fear of the heat, even if the result would be astoundingly beautiful.

"You never cease to amaze me," Viola breathed.

Octavia scoffed with a smirk. "Oh, stop it, you're making me blush."

"I mean it."

Octavia paused, her song filling in where words could not. In the absence of speech, if she listened close, she could hear the nearly-inaudible crackle of her little stars as they levitated aimlessly.

"Viola?" she tried.

"You're so…full of surprises. You always have been," Viola murmured.

Octavia tilted her head, an odd motion with her face pressed to Stradivaria. "Is that a bad thing?"

The sparkle in Viola's eyes was relentless, emboldened by something far beyond what Octavia's light could provide. "It's wonderful. I…love watching you. I love waiting to see whatever it is you do next."

Octavia really did blush. "I-I don't always make the best decisions, you know. You've seen that firsthand."

Viola shook her head with the softest smile Octavia had ever seen her wear. "That's not what I mean. I just…I love being with you in general. Not solely for the things you can do, or for the things you're expected to do, but because you're you."

Octavia blinked. "What do you…mean?"

Viola took one step forward. She took another, then another, until she'd come so close to Octavia that her head nearly bumped into Stradivaria. It was a struggle to play with the girl so close, and Octavia was forced to curl her arms inwards in the hopes of maintaining her steady song. Even then, her notes were curt, and her stars were flickering. Her face was warm.

"It's hard to play if you're this close," Octavia joked. "My stars are gonna be…crappy."

"I like your crappy stars, too," Viola said with much the same smile.

"A-Are they too warm?" Octavia stammered. "I can make them less bright, o-or I can try to make them less hot. Are they too close to you? Is that why you--"

Viola's fingers reaching for her cheek brought her thoughts screeching to a halt. It almost did the same to her luminescent melody, her fingers slowing dramatically. Viola's skin was soft. Her touch was warm. It was different from that of Octavia's stars, a warmth that seeped directly into her blood. She tensed.

"They're perfect. It's okay," Viola reassured quietly.

Octavia's heart skipped a beat. "Do you…like them?"

Viola nodded, the gentleness of her expression and the radiance in her eyes suddenly shaming the night sky at Octavia's fingertips. In an instant, the girl had stepped into its center, inches from her face, and pulled every last twinkling star she'd birthed with love into her orbit. She was the softest sun Octavia had ever seen.

"I love them," her sun whispered.

"I-I-I can make more, if y-you want," Octavia stammered. As to why words were so difficult to come by, she was unsure. Her heart pounded against her chest loudly enough that it almost drowned out Stradivaria's song. She hoped Viola couldn't hear it.

Viola shook her head. "This is more than enough."

Octavia struggled to make conversation, painfully aware of how close Viola was to her. She smelled like vanilla. That wasn't important right now. "I-I think I can count on one hand the number of times I've gotten to show you my light without, you know, people…being in danger."

"Mhm."

Octavia couldn't get over how soft the girl's hand was, Viola's fingertips trailing along her cheek delicately. It felt wonderful. It gave her chills. That wasn't important right now, either. "I think you've, uh, you have the same kind of problem, where I've only gotten to see your ice a few times without us being in trouble, right? I-I'd have to think of when. There was the snow thing, w-we just did that, that was fun. I really liked that idea. You have a lot of really good ideas. I-I didn't think I'd like it at first, but I had a lot more fun than I expected I would. So that's one time."

She was vaguely aware that she was rambling. It wasn't intentional. Octavia flushed. At some point, the deep sea of Viola's eyes had become her favorite color. She'd never stopped to notice. That wasn't important right now, either.

"The night we met," Viola offered.

"Y-Yeah! I forgot about that one. You showed me how to be a Maestra--well, I mean, you showed me what it meant to be a Maestra. I don't know if it counts, but I just remembered that the first time I actually saw your ice, it was technically in a really bad situation. I still get what you mean, though. Your snowflakes were really pretty. You were really--"

She bit her tongue. Was Stradivaria always this heavy?

Viola giggled. "I know we didn't meet under the greatest circumstances, but I'm still so blessed that we met at all. I'm…so happy to have you in my life. I'm so happy to get to be a part of yours."

Octavia's head was fuzzy. She was vaguely aware of the way her song was weakening, the way her stars were fizzling. She wondered if Viola would be mad at her. She wondered if Viola was still paying attention. For her own peace of mind, she hoped Viola really was fine with "crappy stars".

"I-I'm so blessed that you're part of my life, too!" Octavia blurted out. "When all this is over, let's do lots of fun things together that we haven't done yet! We won't have to worry about Maestro stuff anymore. We can travel, we can go back to Coda, I-I can even take you to Silver Ridge and show you around the right way! You didn't get to see almost anything last time. There's this one spot where I used to go to--"

Her song wasn't stopped of her own accord. It was stilled by two slender hands, far softer and warmer than her own, settling calmly atop her moving fingers. Down they pressed, ever so gently, lowering either half of Stradivaria with the most delicate force imaginable. Octavia's cheek lamented the absence of the warmth it had relished until seconds ago.

She supposed there were so many other warmths that compensated for it. There was Viola's breath, so close to her lips. There was her own blood, aflame in her veins and threatening to burst. There was her heart, dying to do the same. There were her stars, popping and fizzling into thin air one by one as they fell from her sky.

"I'm happy no matter where we are or where we go. I just want to be with you," Viola whispered, every syllable nearly brushing against Octavia's skin.

"I-I…I'd like that a lot," Octavia said softly. Viola didn't need the orbit of her stars to be the sun. She was already beautiful enough.

"Octavia, I…" Viola began, trailing off just as suddenly.

"You're really pretty."

Viola blinked. Octavia's face blossomed scarlet. She kicked herself hard, lamenting her ability to swallow words that had already left her mouth. Her best attempts at damage control were a disaster.

"I mean, you're always pretty! I've always thought you were pretty! I mean--wait, no, what I mean is that you're pretty no matter what you--oh, geez, that's not it either. I mean, like, since we've met, you've been pretty, and it's not that you were never not pretty, but you got…prettier."

Viola's eyes shone like sapphires. Octavia could barely breathe. "Beautiful, even."

"You are the most wonderful person I've ever met," Viola murmured.

Octavia didn't resist the way Stradivaria's weight grew to be too much, letting either half of her partner fall limply to her sides in her shaking grasp. She'd brought to life stars in such abundance that even now they gave their last twinkles, still fading as they surrendered to the true and darkened night overhead. She had just enough light to capture Viola's face, savoring the shimmer in the sea that pierced her heart. She didn't want to lose it yet.

"I really like you," Octavia whispered. "A lot."

"I think I like you even more than that."

Octavia shook her head, her face so close to Viola's that her braids surely tickled the girl's cheeks. She didn't flinch. She didn't pull her gaze away from Octavia's own, locked in place forever. "I'm…pretty sure I like you more than you like me."

"Yeah?" Viola whispered back, the slightest hint of a tease upon her words.

Octavia couldn't breathe. "Yeah."

Viola's lips nearly brushed against her own as she grinned. "Prove it, then."

Octavia was grateful for the quantity of radiance she'd opted to bless their world of two with. Their tiny galaxy at last ran low on luminescence, and the last of her false stars finally flickered and died. It left them silent and still, with only the darkness of autumn in their wake and the faint sounds of the natural evening to fill the void Octavia's song had once claimed. She'd captured enough of Viola's own luminous visage in her mind to keep her company with her eyes closed.

It was enough to carry her through the way her head spun and her thoughts fell apart. It was enough to put a face to what made her blood rush through her ears and her heart swell with bliss she couldn't contain. The butterflies that flooded her stomach and the chills that shot down her spine were twists on sensations she hadn't associated with happiness in quite some time. Viola's lips were impossibly soft.

When they parted, it wasn't for long. Octavia surrendered her breath and dove into that beautiful blue sea again and again in the dark of the night. For the pendulum she'd become as of late, for the back and forth of truth and lies she swung endlessly between, never had she felt so still and at peace in her entire life. That was all that was important right now.

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