Lazuli (maybe?)
an excerpt

The last thing that Neon could remember was a bright light and the feeling of a thousand needles rocketing down the back of his spine. Then, there was nothing but darkness and the far away sound of something dripping.

The first thing that he could remember was the sky, bright and blue and clear as glass above his head. There wasn’t a cloud in sight, and the sun in the sky was like a giant eye, peering down at him from above.

It was Neon’s favorite type of day, as he told his brother. It was the kind of day where anything could happen.

“That’s ridiculous,” Largo had said in response. He stared up at the sky, eyes narrowed, and reached a hand up, as if to pluck an invisible cloud from the atmosphere. “Things happen on cloudy days too. I like cloudy days.”

“Why?”

Largo hadn’t answered immediately, just let his hand drop back to his side. Neon watched as his fingers twined through the grass, plucking at one of the strands.

“Well?” he had asked, already impatient. “What’s so great about cloudy days? You can’t see anything.”

Largo looked at him, and it was like looking in a mirror: sun bleached blonde hair and bright eyes that couldn’t decide if they wanted to be green or blue. It was difficult to tell, but even though they were twins, Neon’s skin was a shade darker and Largo’s hair was a little more upswept.

“Of course not,” Largo snapped. “You can’t see past the sky when it’s cloudy. But sometimes, when it’s like this, it’s just too bright.” He brought up a hand and covered his eyes, looking back into the endless blue. “You can’t see anything in front of you . . . and, I mean, isn’t it sometimes more important to look at things down here?”

Neon scoffed, the sharp edge to his tone almost blunted from the fact that he wasn’t even old enough to understand what it was to be bitter. “Why would you want to? It’s all the same. What are you? Scared?” He smirked, lapsing into a familiar argument. “You’re just a big baby.”

“Shut up!”