Ebenezer and Scarlett sat on a grassy hill, slightly wet from the dew settling in the night. Ebenezer leaned into Scarlett as their eyes tilted starward. The sliver of the crescent moon barely illuminated their silhouettes in the darkness, but they could still in the corners of their eyes see the corners of their lips curling into enchanted smiles. The stars were bright and their colors shone, more than mere pinpricks in the blanket of pitch. Their fingers intertwined like perfectly interlocked puzzle pieces. A gentle breeze kisses their faces and played gently with their hair. If they’d been more earthward focused, they would have heard the gentle crashing of the ocean on the rocks below them. They would have heard the quietly hypnotic whir of the crickets rubbing their legs together.
But in these moments, looking up at the stars, nothing else mattered. They could name most of the constellations that filled the sky, tell you the story of each of their namesakes. The pair adored the heavens as they adored each other. And here, on their 45th year together as this little ball of life circled its own unique star, the couple made the trek out to this lonely hill, in a forgotten corner of the ocean to watch a meteor shower that had never been seen in more than a century.
And the first sound either of them hear when their attentions turned earthward again and the shower had glittered the sky was a synchronous “I love you.”