She stroke the pattern of his tapestry. Fingers travelling every curve, depth and corners of his lean physique. There wasn't a carnal message in her eyes, rather a scientific curiosity that heighten as she discovered new horizons with her fingers. He watched her intently, like a skilled bird watcher on a rare species he'd only find on the deepest region in untouched lands. He watched her surveyed him, her honey eyes glint a different hue of brown as she explores faded scars, wounds, dents of teenage debauchery and lifelong misdeeds. No one ever probed him this way, most women seek what they are to be given and only thus. But not her, to her it was a gentle and concise act of understanding a being. Every spot and texture of him, turned and unturned, folded and unfolded. But without the lascivious lull screaming in the other women's eyes. He smiled as she continued in her examination, humming in his mind a tune of a music they alone danced on nights their bodies did not touch. She noticed his eyes were centered at her gaze, and a secret grin ashone ever so slightly but conspicuously. But she pretended not to be affected. To her, it was a validation that he has an understanding that they are free to wear and unwear the skin that they have for each other. To be free to remember every detail of each other, ingrained so vividly and knowingly. Until reciting fiction proves to be believable. Because, they are roamers of this earth. A few miniscule days together, and an eternity to spend away from each other. They own each other this way, but also quite never. Because they each know, that autonomy is a habit close to breathing. And love is a sacred mirage, only if parched from life's misgivings. But yes, on such moons like this one, and many others they'd find each other. Imprinted so deeply within their minds, touch and reveries. Always. And never.