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Steven sat on the precipice, his heart thudding in his chest.
He watched as the dual suns spiraled towards the horizon. One blazed white-blue while the other wept gold, both blending into ruddy hues in the thick atmosphere. The blue light set every image into harsh relief while the gold wreathed their edges in fuzzy halos. Thick clouds rolled like the sea floor, bouncing light into every nook and cranny on the face of this world. Altogether it made for a dizzying array of color and light not unlike wearing 3D glasses.
Steven found himself blinking more than usual, his head swimming as he looked at his feet dangling over the cliff edge. A pair of salmon sneakers kicked next to his. Their shadows twinned on the rock face, one sharp and the other blurred.
He looked to his left, savoring the glow of his love in the alien light. The white cut stark highlights on her skin while the reds and golds brought out its rich undertones. Even as vibrant as the suns painted her, she remained the darkest thing on the surface of this planet. She gave his eyes much-needed relief from the cacophony of color and reflection.
“I bet the organisms on this planet evolved photosynthesis a few separate times.”
Connie’s voice was the only animal sound in this entire wide world. The soft wind carried it far, though the dense foliage swallowed it before it could echo back to them.
“I mean look at these plants, well not plants, but these plant-like organisms.” She held a fuchsia branch in her left hand and a fleshy, green leaf in her right. “We don’t have photosynthetic pigments like these on Earth. It’s incredible! I mean, maybe they all started off with the same photosynthesis and just diverged? Do you think they have bacteria here that they absorbed like Earth plants? Ooo, or maybe each one of these ‘plants’ is actually a colony of tiny organisms! Ugh, what I wouldn’t do for a microscope.”
Steven said nothing, just propped his chin in his hand and smiled. He understood the gist of what she said. She sighed and tossed the plants away, leaning back on her palms and looking up at the sky.
“This is something out of a fantasy,” she whispered. “Thank you for bringing me.”
“You could thank me by telling me a story,” he said, head tilted so his hair shaded his eyes.
She laughed, then put her fist to her chin. Her demeanor sobered and voice dropped as she looked out over the endless expanse.
“Life diverged long ago into followers of the blue or the gold – showing their allegiance with the pigments of their flesh. They turned the landscape into a mosaic of warring factions, fighting for the kiss of their lords, claiming territory in their names.”
She pointed to the left, her muscular arm extending to the desolation on the horizon. The husks of injectors glittered in the dying light.
“One day, new lords of yellow and blue came. They forced the land to their will for fear of their white queen, for grief of their pink princess… But the land rebelled.”
Connie latticed her arms in her lap while her legs kicked out over the expanse. “Eventually, the bravery of the land melted the frigid hearts of the invading lords. They embraced their grief and challenged their fear, inspired by the struggles of the bright heroes. They relinquished their stranglehold on the world and retreated back to the stars.”
“Life continued,” she said in her normal voice. “They regrew, recouped their losses and overtook the land once more.”
Steven stared, mouth slightly agape. “How do you just, do that?”
“I dunno. I just read a lot I guess?” She picked up a moss, all reverence vanishing as she squealed. “Oh ew, this one’s sticky. Feel it!”
Connie turned and lunged for him, careful to avoid the cliff edge. He fell back, laughing, as she tried to push the moss to his cheek. They wrestled until she feinted, bypassing his defense with a well-timed strike and stuck the moss to his face.
“Hey, I have facial hair now.”
Connie laughed and sat upright, sitting on his chest. “It suits you.”
Steven pulled out his phone and checked himself in the camera, an excuse not to look at her while she straddled him. “It is my color… I think I could bring sideways cheek beards into style. It’s kinda itchy, though.”
Connie frowned and wiped her hands on the grass. “Huh. I hope it’s not poisonous.”
Steven plucked the pulsing moss from his jaw and flicked it away, trying to play it cool. This was just friendly wrestling. He shouldn’t get so flushed.
As if able to hear his thoughts, Connie slid off of him and settled on the soft turf. Steven joined her, watching her in his peripheral. Her dark hair, eyes and skin were the only thing on this planet that didn’t give him motion sickness, once again his anchor in the chaos of the wide-open universe.
Connie plucked a crimson spiral from a nearby bush and they lapsed into silence while she studied it. Steven ruminated on why he had brought her here.
She said she wanted to spend more time with him. She said she wanted to go on dates. They’d kissed. They had kissed and danced and fought and saved the world together, and he lately he found he couldn’t look at her without a yawning ache in his chest. Every time they were together, he got hopelessly lost in her voice, her eyes, her embrace.
He knew he had loved her for a long time, years even, but the nature of the love had changed.
Normally he’d just say so without hesitation or fear, but change hadn’t been kind to him lately. Steven winced and tried to push the thoughts away, focusing instead on his determination. She deserved to know. For his own sake, he wanted to prove it to her.
Connie’s voice blended with the soft hiss of the wind.
“This place is beautiful,” she whispered and leaned against Steven’s shoulder. He let out a shaky sigh as words failed him, then pressed back against her. Their legs dangled over the abyss below as the suns began to slip below the horizon. Connie looked up at him.
“Do you feel ok?”
“Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah,” he stammered.
“Are you sure? You’re sweating. Oh, no that moss probably was poisonous, or an allergen or something! Quick,” she turned in flurry of hair and fabric and rummaged in her backpack for a cloth. She licked it and went to dab at the residue on his cheek. “Let me get that off you.”
Steven went stiff as she scrubbed his face.
“Geez, you’re bright red. We might need to go to a doctor.”
Connie’s tongue stuck out as she worked. She had her ear to the sunset as she concentrated, scowling. The light played sideways through her irises and set them ablaze, reflecting the incandescent light he knew rested within her.
“It. It’s not an allergic reaction. I was just thinking.” No turning back now, not that he’d want to.
She paused and cocked her head. Her hair caught the light, calling forth burning reds and browns that framed her face.
“You’re beautiful.”
She blushed. Steven took her hands in his and paused to steady his breathing.
He continued after a moment, words pouring out as fast as he thought them. “You’re so strong, so brave and smart and kind. You’re my best friend. There’s nobody on this world that I enjoy spending time with more… well, nobody on Earth. Or any other world. Ugh, you know what I mean.” He shook his head. “Connie, you… you’re just the best part of my life.”
He let out a tiny laugh and squeezed her hands. “I just feel so safe around you, like I can finally relax because everything will be ok. Even if everything’s not ok right then, even if everything’s really scary and unsure and I don’t think I can do it, I know we will make it.”
He released her hands and sat back, having to look away from her wide eyes.
“But I don’t just lo-like you because of how you make me feel. I love seeing you get excited. You’re so… so reserved most of the time, but deep down you’re the most passionate person I know. You can go on and on about fighting or science or telling stories, and then you start talking with your hands and you get this far away look and just… You’re incredible.”
“I love that about you and… I love you.” He tapped his hands together before looking back up at her, face set in a half-expectant, half-fearful expression. “I’m in love with you.”
The words felt tiny in this world without birdsong. He gave her a nervous smile and looked at his lap, worrying at the fabric of his pants. “I just… thought you should know that.”
Connie didn’t say anything for a long moment. The light breeze shuffled through the undergrowth, the only sound until she moved.
“Steven,” she said, voice and expression unreadable.
Steven looked up and held his breath, heart thudding in his ears.
She was so close.
She leaned closer, jaw set, shifting onto her knees in the soft grass. His thoughts coalesced into a deafening, senseless roar and he drew his legs up, away from the cliff edge.
His brain may have failed him, but his heart could guide him. Steven slowly, gently put a hand on the side of her face. She laid her opposite hand on his shoulder, sliding it to his back as they both leaned closer. Neither of them dared to breathe.
They maintained eye contact until they were a nose distance apart, and then they kissed.
All Steven’s fear melted away the instant their lips touched. The relief sent him reeling and he desperately tried to relax, floating in the feeling of being with her. He pulled Connie farther into his arms, resting one hand on her left hip and the other cradling the back of her head. She wrapped him up similarly, her left arm draped across his shoulder blades and her right curled around his waist.
The kiss escalated, more intimate than anything they had done before. He knotted his fingers in her coarse hair and gripped her hip, met by the same motion across his back. Connie let out a little sound of pleasure and he returned one of his own, his hair standing on end.
He forgot everything he had researched about how to kiss, but it didn’t matter. He opened his mouth just slightly, an invitation for more. She accepted and they kissed deeper, nervous and excited and happy beyond belief.
They eventually separated, wide-eyed and out of breath but still in each other’s arms. The quiet pulled a giddy giggle from Steven’s chest, which sent Connie into her own fit. They fell together, a mess of hugs and laughter and hidden, relieved tears.
Steven pulled her close to his chest and hugged her tight, burying his face in her hair and drinking in the smell of her shampoo. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed, meeting resistance from the muscle underneath his soft, huggable exterior.
Soon darkness fell, heavy and absolute. Connie looked up at Steven’s outline against the last glow of twilight on the horizon. He shifted to search for her vague form, running his hand down her arm until finding the end of it. They interlaced their fingers and turned to face the moonless sky, the unopposed stars painting it beige and blue.
“Steven?”
“Yes, Connie?”
“I love you too.”