Idk a possible love story?? But I dunno.

"Pluto! Pluto, where are you?"

I dip my hands in the paint again, droplets of a baby blue dripping off my finger tips. I smear it across the wall, a horizontal mark, and rock back on my heels.

"Yo, Luciel, this sound okay?" I call, my eyes still frozen upon the color.

My best friend makes a noise from the kitchen, and there's the shattering noise of tumbling pots and pans.

"Luciel?"

"Um- yeah, I'm okay. I think- ow."

I don't laugh, however, instead narrowing my eyes in the direction of the noise.

He'll be fine.

Absently, I return to fading the wall, one finger absently scratching at my fingernail in attempt to get the paint off.

"Just because we're Rurusai, Pluto, doesn't mean I can't get hurt."

Rurusai.

Technically, we aren't supposed to be here. Earth was just for humans, animals, and plants- not Rurusai, who aren't human.

Humanity's inaccurate- in the books, where they show the tall and willowy, frosty-skinned, people... That's wrong. Those slender people are - and they even call us something called 'elves'.

'Elves' isn't where they stop. They call us by another name- Rurusai are divided between height- we're either much taller than humans or significantly shorter.

That must have been the reason why the name 'dwarves' came up.

Our body structures are different than humans, so kindly different- greatly so. And that isn't the stopping point.

Luciel appears in the doorway- twisted, thin lips and narrow cheekbones, seeming to be the epiphany of the words 'sharp face'.

"I'm thankful that I didn't have to request the aid of someone else- someone aside from us Rurusai. It's a lonesome world, the ones we've placed ourselves in. Even the slightest mistake can kill us."

I stop, hand freezing. Droplets of blue quiver and fall to the floor, but my hand stays frozen in the air.

There's always a consequence.

Improved healing, height advantage... It always has a consequence. In books, there's never a consequence.

In this world, there's never not something to level it out.

According to written records, we couldn't touch other animal or human species.

Humans, live animals. Thankfully, we can touch plants- the little garden I have blossoming in the small windowsill is proof of that.

In our society, the Rurusai hadn't touched another species for nearly eleven centuries, now.

I doubt the words carved into paper.

Luciel doubts the words carved into the paper

There is no reason to why we should trust the words of those who could have easily lied unless we saw it for ourselves.

But there's always fear. That's why we haven't touched anything else. Fear for our lives, despite everything.

"We put everything aside so that we could place ourselves in this world," I say. "Surely you are not as senile as you are blind?"

Luciel frowns and picks himself up off the doorway, only to run his fingers along the wall. His eyes- glassy pools of an almost transparent blue- narrow for a moment, as if thinking.

"There's an uneven spot here," he remarks, fingers straying to touch a splotch of paint. "The sound is different than the rest."

His fingers don't waste a beat. They skim across the wall, searching for where the tone of the color's uneven. He sees through hearing sounds- the colors that I see are certain sounds that he hears.

"Thanks. I think I can handle it from here."

His palm lifts from its spot, dropping to his side.

"I'm tired," he murmurs. "That sound induces sleep. Most likely pleasant to the eyes."

With that, he turns to leave the room.

I study the wall once more, fingers covered in paint.

What if I made it shiny?

Another thing we couldn't stop seeing how we were Rurusai- shiny objects.

Yes, it sounds ridiculous. But whenever we see a shiny object, all our attention is drawn to it. It is simply something we can't challenge- the glint against light, something that couldn't not steal my attention.

My eyes dart to look at a small box placed upon the counter- a gift from the former owner of the house.

The label says "GLITTΣR".

There's sparkles in the box, of different colors and shades. I step on over, and pick up the box curiously with my hand that isn't covered in paint.

Opening it, my eyes widen upon seeing the gleam of each individual flake.

Glitter...?

Why name something shiny 'glitter'? Why not name it 'shine'?

I sniff it absently, allowing my fingers to run through the particles. I have never heard of 'glitter' before, so I place the cap back on carefully.

Humans have no external power such as magic, I tell myself silently. This shalln't hurt me in any way, shape, or form.

I place it back on the surface, holding it with the most gingerness possible until my fingers lifted from the surface.

Sparkles still cover my hands.

I turn my hand around, examining the addition to my skin.

It's pretty in the light- kissed by the touch of a celestial body. While I wish to keep it, my skin itches. Turning to head into the kitchen, it's only moments before I sigh.

"Luciel..."

Pots are left upon the floor, scratches coming to surface against the black. I pick one up, turning it over in my hands, irritation seeping through me.

I had cleaned these yesterday.

"How infuriating," I mutter, staring at one of the scratches with a heavy eye.

After a moment, I pick up the other two that lay on the floor, settling them on the countertop. Turning on the water, I run my hands under the tumbling water to rid myself of the special and shiny particles.

Only several shed themselves from my skin, twirling down into the drain alongside the paint.

I sigh, scratching absently at them in appear to get them off- but all they do is further stick to my skin. Releasing a small huff of irritation, I turn off the tap.

Surely a human knows how to get rid of them...?

My eyes move to settle on the window of our kitchen. The window that depicts our neighbor. I don't know much of them, granted, and either does Luciel, and for a reason that is clear as day.

The house is connected to ours- upstairs, the side of the houses are slanted so that the bedroom windows are right near one another. I can pop in and say a greeting- but I have never went among doing so.

As I pass the room I was painting, I take the jar of 'glitter' with me, checking that it's sealed before tucking it under my arm.

My feet crush the dry leaves that scatter our yard- it's the time of year when cold starts to come from behind to embrace you.

You're foolish for seeking out a human.

I wince, the unfiltered thought ringing through my head. Instead, I focus on minor details.

The scar in the bark of the tree. The small indent in the side of the house. 'Dogs' at the end of the street.

Really, Pluto? You're afraid. You're afraid to die- selfish.

My hands tighten into fists.

You say you want to explore this supposed theory you have, but you're too pathetic, too scared to lose your own live by even interacting with a human.

"Shut up," I hiss to no one in particular, but my feet remain frozen on the ground as if they want the thoughts to keep taunting me.

Coward.

The doorbell of the house looks closer now. Everything in my perspective changes, despite the fact that I hadn't noticed that I had moved.

You're just going to retreat with your tail between-

My finger jabs into the doorbell harsher than what I intend. Mumbling a quick apology, I raise my hand to settle it over my forearm- where my pulse beats, instead of the neck or wrist for humans.

It quickens underneath my palm, blood pulsing through my veins, foolishly so.

The door clicks. Someone's fiddling with the doorknob, attempting to open it.

Inhale. Exhale.

I lift my hand to pull the box from underneath my arm, rocking it within my palms. My eyes stay down as I spot the door opening.

"Um, hello, I know this is upon short notice," I say, my words stumbling.

There's a pop, and I glance up, catching sight of the disappearing gum as the man resumes chewing it.

But that's not what catches my eye. What does is the three studs among the top of his right eyebrow, four on the left one.

I don't mean to stare, so my gaze darts away, only to focus on the large loops that dangle from his ears.

"Yeah?"

I clear my throat. "Pluto, sir. I'm your neighbor-"

"It's miss, if you could," he- she interrupts. "She and her pronouns, thanks."

I stop my eyebrow from raising in surprise- what did the human race have going on nowadays?

"Yes, um, miss... I'm Pluto. I'm your neighbor. I have been for several months now. And I..."

I show her my hands and the box. "I know this sounds foolish, but do you happen to know how get rid of this...?"

My neighbor takes one glance at it and barks out a grating laugh.

"Glitter?!"

"Yes, that is the name of that, but that wasn't an answer-"

"Good grief, you're a stupid one. But glitter can get annoying, I guess."

In response, she sweeps her hand into her house, opening the door wider. As she does so, she spares a look towards where our windows are slanting near one another. "That one?"

"Um, yes."

"I'm..." She hesitates for a moment. "Bri. Brianna, if you want. But Bri's fine."

As I stand in the doorway, Bri tosses her head of curly hair. "Come on, aren't you coming in?"

"Ah... Yes."

I'm hesitant to step in, fear quivering at my fingertips. Bri pops a bubble again, looking at me expectantly.

"Where's the bathroom?"

I want to remain behind her so that she couldn't bump into me by accident.

She shakes her head with a mutter upon her lips, but turns her back. "C'mon. Over here."

Once she starts walking, I take a step into the house, shutting the door with tranquillity pulling the strings of my actions.

"Thank you," I murmur. "Thank you."