Sollux Captor peered down the side of the cliff. The ocean, a dirty teal, foamed beneath him. It was almost comical how it futilely threw itself against the rock, as if it were trying to kill itself only to discover that the rocks could not harm it. The wind, harsh and howling, brought the smell of salt and ancient, buried memories of happiness. He closed his eyes, fighting back tears, his depression rising up around him, drowning him. How many times had he stood in this very spot? How many times, with her hand in his and her hair blowing against his face?

He clenched his hands into fists. She would have laughed, pushing him over onto his back and trapping him against the grass. He always pretended to try to escape, but really there was nowhere else he would rather be. They would lay there like that for hours, her arm across his chest, staring at the clouds. They would almost always be large, white, puffy, perfect, and the gulls would bob and weave in between them, calling out abrasively to each other. He looked up. The clouds were an angry, thin mass spread angrily across the sky, turning the blue of the sky to a dull, horrible grey. The few seagulls that remained circled apprehensively, searching for shelter from the oncoming storm.

Lacking the will to stand, he fell unceremoniously to the ground. Dangerously close to the edge, Sollux instinctively cringed away. She would have laughed at his fear. It wasn't his fault that he was afraid of heights, but it was a sore topic with her. She loved being in high places, feeling the wind. She was always begging him to go higher, and she would look at him and his heart would melt. Cold and uncomfortable he may have been, but she was there, and that was all that mattered.

The first tentative droplets of rain fell from the sky. His hand curled around a rock. With every ounce of strength he could muster, he threw it out to ocean swallowed it unsympathetically, and it was like the rock had never existed. He smiled bitterly, wishing that he could as easily throw away his pain. But getting rid of his sorrow would be a lot more complicated.

He looked over the edge. The rocky beach below was almost lost in the roiling ocean. It seemed as though all the ocean knew how to do today was mercilessly devour. A thought, sudden and deep and seductive, beckoned him. He tried to banish it, but it would not be dismissed. Slowly, with the clumsiness of his long limbs, he stood again. "Come on, it'll be eathy," he whispered to himself. He took a tentative step forward, then another. He could feel the edge of the cliff, and his fears screamed at him to run. Burying them deep inside himself, he leaned forward. The wind rushed past him, and he was falling.