Her eyes followed the perfect line of his arm, his hand, his finger, the perfect invisible string that led to his favorite star. It was nothing spectacular, really; it was one of those minor burning orbs that filled the universe, but one that still gave way to the endless wonders that lay forgotten and untouched by years past.
Currently, it was a brilliant white-gold. But no, she realized. Itâs more than that. Itâs an endless range of colors. Sapphire blues, blood reds, crystalline greens. The colors were flashing before her with no end in sight. It was as though several billion fireworks of the same hue were all bursting simultaneously. At once she was taken by the beauty of the untainted night sky, letting herself gaze for hours upon hours. She would just stare and watch the constellations float by. Her mouth parted in silent wonder as she finally understood the momentous impact the universe had on the whole of human race; how one infinitesimal burning star could be the source of a lifetime of curiosity. And, oh, she couldnât fathom the thought of how she used to view the skies. Boredom and dissatisfaction had become the standard association, in her mind, to the stars and nothing would ever be able to change that. Except for now.
He would catch her out of the corner of his eye as she sat on the decades-old quilt: legs stretched forward, arms braced behind her, head tilted towards the heavens. Her feet tapped against each other to a silent jingle only she knew.
He was the one who had begged and begged to show her the skies, until one evening, she had agreed. The hot chocolate was brought about, the blanket was laid, the telescope was assembled (though they never once touched the device; it stood isolated and forgotten, favored by the less-technical human eye). Admitting to him only shortly after their arrival that she had very limited knowledge about the constellations led him to accept the challenge of teaching her everything he knew - which, by scientific standards, was hardly enough to gain him any recognition, but for tonight it was all they needed.
Laying down side-by-side, he pointed to a star and, with his finger, traced the microscopic thread that held the constellation together. He had told her the stories of old when in the early days of exploration, sailors would use that one, insignificant point to track their way around the globe. To him the constellation had became an icon, a source of solitude just like it had been for thousands of dreamers before him. She had âoohedâ and âaahedâ in the appropriate places and teased him for his fascination, but he did not care. The fact that he had finally gotten to show her the one thing that meant the most to him in the world was all that matter in that moment.
And by the end of the night, her head was resting sleepily on his shoulder and her eyes went back to that wonderful, invisible line.
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