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Even through the pockets of his hoodie, a chill on the cusp of an autumn night settled into his fingertips. Like clockwork, every year his mother told him and his sister to bring a jacket (''It's not the height of Summer anymore -- you'll regret it!''). Everyone living in the valley must've heard that same advice at least once in their life -- yet, no one ever followed it. Maybe it was to extend the illusion of warmer days; that you could just plug your ears and pretend time wasn't marching ever onward.
Whatever. Sebastian liked the colder days, anyway.
Cobblestone faded into sand as they emerged onto the white expanse of the beach just a stone's throw away from town. In the lantern light, he spotted most of the townspeople already standing on the creaky docks, lightly chatting and biding their time till the main event. His father and Maru immediately went towards the docks, science equipment and clipboards in tow, and after a silent pat on his shoulder from his mother (that she definitely meant 'come join us for once' with), she went after them, laughing that the jellyfish would be back again next year if they missed them.
Even if they did, Sebastian didn't want to miss them. There weren't many animals he liked -- most of his love went towards the frogs that hopped around the yard, and the occasional deer he'd spot in between the trees on his more-occasional walks -- but the more often he saw them, the more he liked watching these strange, bio-luminescent jellies. They drifted along peacefully, not bothered whatsoever by the dozens of eyes gazing at them in awe.
He'd like it if, for once, his family could appreciate them for what they are, instead of trying to decipher what they were.
The ancient wooden planks groaned as he set foot on them. Dodging a playing Jas and Vincent, he made his way to the secluded dock he usually watched from -- a lot emptier, this time.
Abigail sent him a wave when he looked over. Her parents were holding onto her arms with a vice grip, determined to spend the night with her for once. And, if he didn't spend tonight with his own family, he was certain that'd be him next year. He shuddered at the thought.
Sam was sweating it out at home, sleeping off a fever he somehow got. Oh, the poor thing. A chuckle slipped past his lips and he lightly shook his head at the image.
All that together meant he wasn't spending the night with his friends. A voice in his head told him he should probably join his family, but with a single gaze, he confirmed they were standing on the crowded part of the docks -- pretty much half the town was squished together on it, watching as the mayor undid the knot holding the lantern boat tied to shore, and sent it off with a single determined push.
He let out a sigh. He could take this time to appreciate the jellyfish in silence, for once.
Another groan came from the docks when he plonked down, swinging his legs over the edge. The toes of his sneakers just barely skimmed the water's surface. A million stars twinkled and shimmered in the night sky, and another gust of wind sent him shivering into the warmth of his hoodie.
... Yeah, he should've brought a jacket.
In the distance, he spotted something glowing, just beneath the ocean waves. The murmur of conversation faded away.
He didn't realize someone was standing beside him until the squeaking sound of ancient, overburdened planks filled his ears. He turned his head, and was met with the sight of Elliott, though he looked different from usual. The few times he spotted the newcomer during errands he ran for his mom, his hair was always loose, draped over his shoulders like an expensive curtain and flowing past the coat that looked more costly than any clothes Sebastian owned. Yet now, it was pulled up into an elaborate bun. Two braids, pleated just above his ears, wound around the bun -- and though he would've expected to see an array of bobby pins holding the hairstyle up, he couldn't spot a single one.
Not just that, he'd traded in his coat for a simple vest; his slacks were replaced by khakis, and -- were those flip flops?
Before Sebastian could protest, Elliott took a seat beside him, nonchalantly tucking his feet under his legs. He didn't try to say anything, at least, which he appreciated. But he still didn't like how his quiet time was disturbed.
''It's even more beautiful from up here than I could've ever imagined,'' whispered Elliott, as if he were afraid if he spoke any louder, the jellyfish would flee in an instant.
... That's right, the strange, secluded author had moved into the valley only a mere season ago, just when the spring blossoms turned over to summer petals. During the Luau, he'd spotted him conversing with Leah and Willy, strangely enough, but he seemed... different now. Less distant, and more carefree -- yet the air of refinement around him remained. He saw a certain gentleness he hadn't noticed before.
Sebastian pulled up his legs, not wanting to disturb the sea creatures in their enchanting waltz. ''Well, you're in luck,'' he shrugged, ''they come back every year. You'll have many chances to gape at them.''
''I do hope so,'' said Elliott, still whispering. He pushed a stray strand of hair behind his ear. ''The sea is becoming more polluted by the day. I wonder how many more times they'll grace us with their presence.''
He didn't have an answer to that, no matter how much he racked his brain for one. At this point, more jellies had appeared and lazily drifted up to shore, imitating the night sky to the best of their abilities.
For the first time in many months, a calm sensation washed over him.
Maybe it was because of the jellyfish, twirling through the waves in all their wonder and mystery. Perhaps it was because of the ocean, lapping at the shore, splashing against the dock and spraying salty droplets against his knees.
Or maybe it was because of the gentle author that had decided to join him for reasons unknown.
But he wasn't complaining.
''You are Robin's son,'' Elliott said, looking out of the corners of his eyes to gauge Sebastian's reaction, ''right?''
''That's right,'' he replied. Then, a light panic settled in as he wondered if Elliott knew his name, and anyone else would keep talking, wouldn't they? He coughed lightly into his fist. ''Sebastian.'' A beat of silence. ''That's my name.''
A smile spread across Elliott's lips, and Sebastian wondered why it felt as if the air was escaping from every crevice of his lungs. ''I gathered.'' His gaze returned to the open seas, and Sebastian felt he should copy him. He willed his own eyes back towards the dark expanse, dotted with little lights. ''I haven't seen you around much -- or, at all, really. I'm glad I could make your acquaintance, now. And at such a wonderful festivity, to boot.''
For reasons unknown, Sebastian took his hands from his pockets and decided to wring them together in his lap, for... for what reason? He didn't know. He still felt a little light-headed. Maybe he's tired. He didn't get too much sleep last night, anyway.
But he still found the energy to catch a glimpse of Elliott who, truth be told, appeared ready to jump into the water and join the jellies in their dance at any second, yet seemed to withhold himself -- and tried to hide it under a mask of serene amazement. It was a glimpse into the man he'd only noticed from afar until now. And this feeling that accompanied it was one that terrified him... yet, was exhilarating in its own, special way.
Maybe he would miss the warmer days. Just maybe.