Time on the Surface is so different than Underground.
Most of it is thanks to the sun. The humans’ world revolves around it, literally and figuratively. Even with clocks of the digital and analogue varieties, the sun’s cycle is an important indicator of time. As long as it is visible, it is considered to be daytime, the more socially acceptable period to be out and about. This contrasts heavily to the Underground, when day was when the king declared it to be, not that it made any difference in how safe it was to be in public.
Before, like many monsters, one of the Surface things Edge was most excited to see was the sun. To feel its warm rays on his skull. To watch the sky be painted in a rainbow of colours as it rises each morning. From a young age, even in the bleakness of living in Underfell, Edge thought of the sun as freedom, as the best thing he could look forward to if he was able to live long enough to see it.
Now, though, he knows that he was wrong.
The sun is too bright, almost unnaturally so. On good days, he sometimes doesn’t notice it; it has almost become as normal as the blizzards were in Snowdin. On bad days, however, it seems blinding, making the crack through his eye socket twinge painfully.
Speaking from a basis of survival, it should be comforting, that brightness. After all, when there is a good source of light, it is harder for unsavoury creatures to hide in obscurity. He can see the dangers around him more easily now.
Still, if he had to choose, Edge would say he prefers the night.
After all, there is nothing like seeing his lover’s face under the pale light of the moon.
Pulling Stretch closer, Edge tilts his head up, looking at the stars. If he concentrates, he can make out a constellation or two. Orion’s belt, a line of stars Stretch had made sure to point out the first time they had gone stargazing together. One of the dippers, although, to this day, he cannot recall which is which.
Edge imagines that this is what the other ‘verses got to enjoy in Waterfall’s gem caves. Years ago, perhaps, things were the same in Underfell. Never when he was alive. One simply couldn’t afford to stop and stare at the ceiling, making wishes and dreaming of seeing the real stars. Not if he wanted to live.
Here, he doesn’t have to deprive himself of such luxuries. That doesn’t mean that he still isn’t on guard; the Surface may be safer than his Underground, but that doesn’t mean that danger is nonexistent, and some old habits will never die.
An eager hand suddenly grasps his own. “did you see that?”
“there!” With his other hand, Stretch points to a fast moving line of light. A shooting star. “did you make a wish?”
Edge hums absently, running his gloved thumb over Stretch’s knuckles. “Did you?”
“well, yeah,” he responds, an unspoken ‘obviously’ implied. Without looking, Edge can see the grin covering Stretch’s face, diminishing the stubborn dark circles under his eyes. He is doing far better than when they first met. Both of them are.
Turning his head, Edge drinks in the sight of his love’s happiness. Even when he knows it is there, it won’t ever stop him from seeking it.
“Are you going to share?”
“huh?” Edge can feel his expression soften as Stretch shakes his head, visibly trying to recenter his thoughts. In the dark privacy of their backyard, he doesn't bother hiding the joy Stretch brings to his soul. His brother says he is a lovesick fool. He isn’t wrong. “oh, right, my wish. of course not! it won’t come true if i tell you!”
“Of course,” he says dryly. “How could I forget?”
“good thing you’ve got me, then.” Snuggling in to rest his head on Edge’s chest, he asks, “got any more of those cookies?”
“Chocolate chip or gingersnap?”
“babe, i thought you knew me better than that.”
He does, but it is still good to make sure. Reaching into the tupperware at his side, he takes out three cookies; a chocolate chip and a gingersnap for Stretch, and another gingersnap for himself.
They eat their cookies in silence. Another shooting star passes by, and he can feel Stretch hold his breath as he makes another wish. Just like the first time, Edge doesn’t bother.
Why would he need to make a wish when he is already living it?