Aquarius × The Emberheart
The work sits in a drawer the streetlamp can't reach; not unwritten, but written for a reader who doesn't exist yet.
Cool on the outside, furnace within, and you like it that way. Aquarius hands you the detached air, the even voice, the slight distance from the crowd. The Emberheart sits behind all of it, burning over the things you'd never admit you care about that much.
You'll argue an idea like it's only an idea. It isn't. You picked it because something in it lit you, and you'd sooner debate the principle than own up to the heat. The cloud-veiled moon again: burning, out of sight, on purpose.
Antares is one red star, brilliant and apart. Aquarius is comfortable apart. The two of you can go a long time mistaking distance for peace, until the fire that had nowhere to go comes up sideways.
Let it out before it's a flood. Being known isn't the same as being crowded.
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A mirror, not a prophecy. It reflects you as you are right now. How you walk is still yours to choose.