People too often think that light and dark are two separate things. But, you never quite find one without the other. The night is sprinkled with stars. The sun is littered with dark patches. And yet, still I find myself distracted by the light, misplacing any acknowledgement for the dark altogether. In the light, I forget any possibility of darkness.

The thing about darkness is that it lurks. Even when you're drowning in light. It's always there, hanging on the edge of daybreak, embedded somewhere deep within us.

And when it escapes, that's when all hell breaks loose.

Little to my knowledge, darkness was looming in the background. I could still feel it in my fingertips from the night, from the earthquake, or...whatever the hell that horrid thing was. But Rush was playing through the speakers of Sit and Spin Records. Bo was sitting at the counter where he belonged, basking in the day flooding in through the store display windows, and I had a handful of new releases to stock. So I didn't think much of it.

I set the box of cassettes down and began stacking them on a stand beside the entrance.

The Police. Journey. The Eurythmics.

I'm bombarded by a sudden gust of wind and the ringing of the bell attached to the front door. The Eurythmics cassette was gone. I could sense him standing behind me and the smugness strewn about his face. I rolled my eyes and turned around with a smile,

"Give it back, Peter."

He groaned and I held out my palm, waiting for him to place the plastic case.

Bo adjusted his hearing aid and called out from across the store,

"Eh. Let him take it. It's that new wave crap everyone's listening too. I swear no one appreciates acoustics anymore."

Peter grinned at me and shrugged after shoving it into the pocket of his jacket.

"You're too nice to him, Bo," I remarked with a laugh.

"I know I am," Bo quipped back before returning to a newspaper laid beside the packages of gum for sale on the counter.

"So did you come in here just to steal the merchandise?" I questioned, bending back down to return to my task.

There was another quick bout of wind and all of the cassettes were suddenly arranged on the display. I stared at the empty box and turned back to him, pressing my lips against his as a thank you.

"No, I actually just came to drop this off real quick," he answered, handing me a polaroid.

I looked down at the photo and saw a little image of me, standing in front of a massive cavern in the earth. There was a content look on my face, a little glimmer of awe in my eyes.

"Told ya so. Tell me your face isn't wonderstruck. You loved the World's Deepest Pit."

I chuckled and replied,

"Nice try, Quicksilver, but I wasn't looking at the stupid hole. I was looking at you."

He snatched the polaroid back from me, examining it closely. His cheeks stained a faint pink and he couldn't help but release a goofy smile. I was lost in it, until the clock ticking above the register caught my attention.

"Go pick up Lorna. I'll be over in half an hour after we close up," I stated.

"We still on for Return of the Jedi and The Golden Spoon?"

"Of course."

Peter leaned in and kissed my lips before heading towards the door. My eyes were captured by something plastic sticking out of his back pocket. I stopped him with the tug of his shirt collar and slipped my hand in, fishing out the Journey cassette he took from the display stand.

"Eurythmics is all you get, dork."

He gave me a sheepish look and placed a kiss on my cheek.

"Go on," I added before he left the out door, glancing back at me with a smile through the glass before disappearing completely.

I placed his stolen cassette back to its place with the others.

"I don't get you, ___," Bo stated as he folded his newspaper back up and locked the register up for the day. I sensed his energy grow more serious.

"What do you mean?"

"Why is someone with a master's degree in physics stocking cassettes at an old record shop?"

I scratched the back of my neck, looking back to the rows of albums lined across the store,

"You know I love this place, Bo. I don't mind running it."

Bo stepped down from his stool, the sunlight reflecting of his darkened lenses. He leaned against the side of the wooden countertop with his arms crossed. He told me bluntly,

"I love you like my own blood, hun. But we both know you're cut out for bigger things than this."

I grabbed my navy baracuta jacket from the hook in the backroom, taking a key out from my pocket with a jingle and locking it up afterwards. My chest tightened.

"I'm happy here. I've got you. I've got Peter. That's all I really need."

He sighs and walks over to me, pulling me toward him into a quick embrace. His energy forms a shell around me. Loving. Caring. Protective.

"I know. I know. I just...I don't want you to throw away your gifts," he confesses.

I tuck a rebellious strand of hair back behind my ear, pondering hard about what he's saying. But the bright daylight outside blinds me.

Everything is amazing. Everything is as it should be. I shouldn't tamper with it.

Light is safe. Light is warm. When you find it you lock it up. You keep it balled up in your fist and you don't risk losing it, even if there might be something better out there. Because that's the thing about light.

It always inevitably slips your grasp.