"Don't you just want to see what happens when the world falls apart?"
The question hovered between them, staying afloat while the autumn leaves failed to do the same. A soft thud signaled the baseball landed in Geneviah's weathered palm.
"Why would I? I like the world as it is now." She responded, tossing the ball up again.
"We're only tested, truly tested, when everything is against us." Urgency entered Geneviah's tone, her low voice tight. "Would you really never be curious? To see how far you can be pushed, to see where you could make it if the rules were thrown out the window, to see where you'd fall?"
Thud.
"Not really. I like my life. My life in this town, my life with you. It sounds like a lot of hardship." The ball went up again.
"You have to. I can't be the only one." Ghosts of touches scattered across her shoulder, a phantom pain. "You've never woken up in the middle of the night, sweat a river down your back, the moon a mocking glare as you're forced to contend with the world always handing you a path forward?"
Thud.
"Sometimes." A lightning strike, unbidden from the depths but suppressed with practiced ease shot through her head. "I mean, no. Gennie, you sound silly."
The ball entered its highest point, beginning its arc back down.
"I have to know." The sky's blue, a cerulean splattered with clouds above them, stuttered as an unknowable motion was cast. "I need to know. I'm sorry if you can't come with me."
Thud.
"Sae?"
Thud.
"Geneviah, are you there?"
Thud. Thud.
Her hand ached, twinges traveling up her arm.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
She flinched, and--
Sae sat up in her room, her back sticky with sweat.
The moon's light came through a sliver in her blinds.
The left side of the bed was cold.