A/N: Watch out guys, this chapter's got language :O Just a little FYI. Alright, I'll stop talking C:

A humid, yet cool breeze forced the boy's eyes to flutter, as crimson hair caught his eyes. Sitting up slowly, allowing his body to catch up to his surroundings, his silver eyes focused on a peaceful figure lying beside him; only when he realized who the figure actually turned out to be did Silver jump. The fact that he'd slept under the stars besides this girl hit him harder than the morning sunrise itself. Yet, upon remembering the events of the night, his heart calmed; everything turned out all right in the end.

In the end, he'd caught her, and she found him, despite the overwhelming mist; her lips found his, despite the fogginess. In the end, they sat under the chandelier of stars, illuminating the vast canvas of sky before them, before drawing the girl to a drowsy state. It was only when he felt her head on his chest that the temptation of sleep lured him in as well…

He could only imagine her sparkling, chocolate eyes as she awoke this morning, reminding him of the bright stars in the black sky the night before. How her eyes could illuminate the dark mist around her was beyond him. He imagined her brunette locks intertwining with the dewy, green grass beneath her, growing into new flowers and coloring dead patches of grass with her vivid soul. And when she did awaken, the boy's metallic eyes forced themselves to focus on the sunrise before them as it painted the sky with rosy shades of pink and purple, yellow and orange. Although having just woken up, Lyra sat silently; to Silver, it almost seemed as if she wasn't even there.

The girl slowly rose to her feet, handing back the boy's jacket to its rightful owner and later proceeding to dust off her skirt, now wet from the morning dew.

Silver's eyes widened. "Hey, are you alright?" Curiously staring down at the boy who remained sitting, Lyra nodded as she began to examine her arms, legs. Tilting her head, she questioned him. It was only until he pointed to her head that the girl felt the dripping of liquid, blending into her shirt of equal color.

"Geez," Lyra muttered, staring at the blood on her hands. "Must've been some mosquito… Thanks for not offering any bug-spray, Silver! I could've been saved this misery!"

"W-What?", Silver exclaimed, "It hurts that badly?" Not being familiar with this sort of situation, the gray-eyed boy stood up frantically, running a hand through his hair nervously before hesitatingly examining the girl's head. "H-Here, let me see it-." Lyra laughed and cleaned the blood with a tissue upon witnessing his reactions, causing Silver to jump in hesitation and worry.

"Calm down, buddy," she laughed, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "mosquito bites usually aren't deadly." And as she skipped towards the house, the boy could only watch her, embarrassed.

But she already knew that.

By now, her watch read 3:15.

Her usually shiny hair didn't shimmer in the sunlight as it had done every day before. However, ignoring that matter, Lyra strode towards her home, a bounce in her step, her mind ruminating on the day's events thus far. She pondered over the boy's defeated face when she told him she had to go practice for today; she smiled when she remembered how his metallic eyes lit up when she assured him she'd be waiting for another dinner tonight, laughed, when he became suddenly nervous. Nevertheless, her hope for tonight was that everything would replay as yesterday; the words, the actions, hell, even the ruined lasagna. She could never be happier.

Looking up to the sky, gray clouds met her eyes, threatening her with the heavy chance of downpour; however, the thought of missing one practice didn't bother her one bit. Surprisingly, the brunette girl smiled, for the gray clouds reminded her of his metallic-gray eyes.

She smiled to herself, until that irreplaceable hunger shot through her stomach, the depths of her gut. It almost hurt more than yesterday.

Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, amidst the people walking past her, a sharp pain shot through the "mosquito bite" on her head; upon touching it, her hand became tainted with red.

An elbow to her side from a walking pedestrian indicated that she'd been standing in the middle of the sidewalk for too long. Ignoring the lack of apology, Lyra continued to her home, temporarily enduring the intensity of the pain within her.

She stared incredulously at another person who'd run into her, glaring daggers at their back as they failed to apologize, or even acknowledge her. 'What goes around comes around, I always say'

Still, another hit in the side, the guilty party ignoring her being there. "Sure," she shouted at their leaving, "No apology to the poor soul who's BLEEDING!"

Even with her shouting, the person ignored her; everyone ignored her. Nobody heard her, acknowledged her, turned their head, no one listened, and Lyra stood there, a lump in her throat. 'What the he-?'

"Sucks, doesn't it?" Whipping her head around to the source of that cocky, familiar voice, Lyra's knees buckled, ultimately causing her body to hit the pavement floor, due to lack of support around her.

After all, she never thought that she'd see eyes that gold ever again.

At that moment, his clock read 6:32.

Overall, his day consisted of pondering and thinking.

And sweating.

As soon as Lyra left, Pearl and Dia had woken up as well, all set for another day's work. However, they'd asked him numerous questions. "Are you feeling alright," they'd asked, as well as, "You like to talk a lot, don't you?"

"Hey boss, who were you talking to?"

All those questions had flown over his head, as he ignored them and set off to his morning work, thinking about the previous night.

And never had he thought that he would have been able to get through the previous night without a certain friend's advice. Yet, the thought of said friend brought shiver's to his spine, making his skin cold and heart pound with nervousness. He didn't want to face his gold-eyed friend. Glancing out the window of his humble abode, the boy merely glanced to the nearby forest.

Placing a hand on the warm coffee cup before him, Silver sighed, running a slightly shaking hand through his hair. He thought of how that girl woke up this morning, looking unfazed by the morning sun; he smiled over how hesitant she was to tell him she needed to practice, laughed, when she was relieved with his response. Nevertheless, his metallic eyes stared into the dark, hot liquid with longing and loneliness. He only wished for the pieces to fall where they may, hopefully replaying the bliss of the night before. However, Silver never had been a boy with much serendipity and luck.

And then the guilt hit him, square in the chest, deep in his stomach. "Shit," he cussed angrily, hopping out of his window seat before hastily throwing an empty coffee cup into the nearby sink. He couldn't miss out on his promise twice in a row; the red-haired boy wasn't even supposed to miss it once. Squinting at the distance between him and the forest, Silver moaned, hoping that God would hold the rain back until after he met with the gold-eyed boy.

Despite the beautiful sunrise that morning, the rain had returned for a second round, getting beyond ridiculous in what seemed like an endless shower. And now, as the silver-eyed boy frantically pushed the damp, auburn-red hair from his face, the water only increased in force and quantity, temporarily blinding his eyes as he sprinted into the slight protection of the forest trees. Looking around at the bleakness of the sky, Silver could only grunt; deep down, he knew the weather would foreshadow what was yet to occur.

He couldn't feel his feet lead him to the small opening in the forest, the familiar boulder he sat on, every day. Yet, upon reaching the spot, his now dark eyes fell upon a crouched figure, sitting on the flat part of the boulder, where he would sit daily. Silver swallowed, his mouth suddenly becoming dry, words holding back, for fear stopped him for the first time in his life. Nerves ate away at his insides, and yet, he didn't need to think about starting words.

"So, what happened?" Silver stood there, surprised at the casual question coming from the crouched figure, which sat, unaffected by the falling rain. Yet, it still failed to show those glowing gold eyes.

"Uh…what?"

A chuckle resonated from the figure's throat. "You know, the date." Still, he hadn't dared turn.

Silver eyes bore into the figure's back; that word rang in his ears. "Good."

"Because, you know," the figure continued, his voice going into unfamiliar hysterics," it must have been pretty fucking important, right!" Now, facing him, Silver realized the glow from his eyes was missing. Without that extra sparkle, his eyes only held onto a sickly yellow shade, almost transparent. "Why can't you get it-"

"No, Gold," Silver interrupted, "why can't you understand?" He stood there, hesitant, not recognizing the anger in his own voice. But he didn't hold back, not even for his friend. "Weren't you the one asking me day in and day out if I liked her?" Gold remained silent, his eyes wavering for a split second. "To think, you're such a hypocrite."

"Don't call me that-"

"Geez, and to think you'd get so worked up after I missed one day. One FREAKING day!"

"DON'T ," he screamed, screamed. His transparent, yellow eyes caught him, stared him down without all the anger from before. This time, a rare sadness glazed his eyes, his face, his whole body. "Just…you don't-"

Silver sighed, inwardly praying that this was nothing more than one of the boy's tantrums; the raven haired boy never had grown used to not having things turn out in his benefit, after all. "I promise, I'll be here whenever I can-"

"And how can I trust you now?" Silver eyes downcast; he couldn't answer that. "God, and I thought you never broke a promise, am I right, buddy?"

"You know, you never really kept any of your promises either-"

"Don't pull that shit! That's the worst way to weave around your problems, Silver; by blaming them on me." He didn't want to admit it, that he felt guilty about the day before; nevertheless, the damp, red-haired boy held on to his rage, his anger, for a little while longer.

"Gold, listen to me-"

"Why?"

"Gold, shut up for a second and listen-"

"I don't get you..."

"Oh my God, stop tal-"

"…leaving me for a girl who-"

"JESUS, GOLD! I HAVE A LIFE, YOU KNOW!"

Quiet; only the pitter-patter of the rain accompanied the echo through the forest, dampening the red-haired boy even more; failing to affect the other. The boy took this as an invitation to continue.

"It's because I still have a life that I continue with it!" His own words hurt his heart. "And don't fucking drag her into the picture. Nothing'll change. It's got nothing to do with her." His silver-eyes widened at the sound of laughing.

"Oh," Gold laughed, maniacally, "you say this has nothing to do with her, huh? You say, she's an innocent girl, that nothing'll change between us as long as she's here, correct?" His face turned dark, as he slowly hopped off the large boulder, pointing a menacing finger, transparent eyes growing shadowy.

"As long as she's here, you'll be following her like a sick puppy," he started, pointing that finger menacingly. "As long as she lives, you'll be in her life."

"And the more you're in her life," he hissed, pausing between a broken breath, "the less you are in mine."

His gold eyes grew even less yellow, almost a sickly color, as his companion stood there, incredulous. "Gold, you're being ridiculous-"

"And the less you are in my life," he whimpered, his voice wavering, "the longer you hold on to her." Red hair blinded Silver as he listened, unbelieving, to his friend's, his "brother's", words. No matter what Gold said, he could never let go of the memories of his past… or so he thought.

"The longer you hold on to her, the less you hold on to me…"

And for the first time, the golden eyed boy turned his back on his friend, walking back into the depths of the forest. For the first time, he'd ignored the frantic shouting of his companion, whose silver eyes held an unfamiliar worry and stress.

And for the first time, he didn't look back.

He couldn't eat, almost couldn't breathe, after being with him. His transparency shook his insides, held his stomach in its twisting grips, until he couldn't bear it any longer. So he ran.

He ran.

He ran, not to his own home, full of memories of visits and long talks, but to the small town nearby; he ran to the small restaurant that he practically grew up in. He ran inside and sat himself down on a stool, taking into small account who sat next to him. His wet, red hair hid the expression of pain on his face, the expression of tribulation.

He couldn't choose.

His silver eyes briefly fell upon the man sitting nearby; sandy blonde locks covered his head, a purple headband holding them back. His violet eyes lacked the spark that people normally held, and it seemed as though he hadn't eaten for at least two days. Meeting Silver's equally dull gray eyes, the man turned around to the center of the restaurant, where an unfamiliar, red-haired man had cleared his throat. His demeanor and stature looked intimidating, as he threw off the cape from his back, now soaking with rainwater, and tossed it to an empty stool. Others gathered around to listen, making Silver realize how many people actually lived in the small town.

"As you all know," the man started, his spiky hair dripping, "I've decided to put up a search party for the young girl gone missing." Murmuring began, filling the air with tension. A sharp pain hit Silver's gut. The man raised his hands to the crowd. "Those willing to help in the search, please speak up-." To his request, countless people spoke up, pushing towards the center of the restaurant with anxiety. Silver, to his curiosity, crammed himself into the crowd, slowly pushing his way into the center, where he met with the tall, red-haired man.

"Wait," Silver shouted above the other voices, "who's missing? What happened?" The man, running a hand through his wet hair, hushed the crowd. The boy's silver eyes strained, his stomach ached, and he mentally cursed himself for asking at all; in the end, he didn't want to know. The tall man's demeanor changed, from calm to broken; his eyes became downcast.

"The girl," he started, "Miss Hart."

Silver swallowed, mouth dry; he became dizzy. "L-Lyra?" The man nodded solemnly.

"…She's been missing for three days-"

And he ran, again.

'Are you feeling alright?'

And he didn't mind the puddles, splashing his legs, soaking his pants, his legs. The cemetery was empty, gray, from this distance. But in a few seconds, he'd reached the place of the gravestones, the meaningless epitaphs and tombs, the only physical reminders of the dead.

'You like to talk a lot, don't you?'

And he heard her crying, sobbing, against the floor, her head still bleeding from this morning. Her hair wasn't wet. Her clothes weren't dirty or soiled. All that was soiled were her eyes.

Her brown eyes looked up at him, tears swelling up. "I thought you said you would find me."

'Hey boss, who were you talking to?'

Silver shook his head, falling to the ground. Lyra whimpered, transparent. "You said you would find me!"

And he cried, holding the nothing in his arms.

For the past three days, she was missing.

For the past two days, she was gone.

For the past day, she was lost.

And just like Gold, he had lost her.

She was gone.