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"What do you think of this one, Juno?"
Juno eyes the passerby. His peek over my shoulder is not as inconspicuous as he wants it to be, but what he lacks in subtly he makes up for in the speed of the glance. One might think he never learned how to openly study someone without putting his entire heart on display. "Pass."
"What?" I say in mild affront. "Her attire is quite literally perfect. Those long legs accentuated by the length of her skirt, her boots, the blue trim of her jacket-"
"Oh, you would point out the blue," he scoffs.
"What's wrong with blue? I happen to enjoy the color of most planetary skies, you know. There's so much variation on the shade. You take it for granted, I think.”
He rolls his eye at me. I suffer through his annoyance knowing there's no real merit to it. "Yeah, so you've said. What about them?"
I try to follow the point of his finger in the crowd just beyond our reach. "Who?"
"Right there, next to the guy whose face suggests he's either in a constant state of stubbing his big toe or he just lost a lottery, and the trash can someone probably pisse-"
"Ah. Charming city," I mumble. "How long are we down here again for?"
Juno shrugs. "Until Jet finds the part he needs for the Carte Blanche, I guess. Come on, it isn't that bad down here. We can always hop back in the Ruby and head up again, if you want."
"No, no. As much as I adore our resident hacker, I can only take so much pressure to watch the latest episode of Octo-Horse. "
"Yeah, that one's too weird even for me. Besides," he adds, and I feel him slip his calloused hand in mine, casual, quietly hopeful. "The break from everyone else is nice, right?"
Truthfully, the thought of having the ship, idling silent and unseen far above our heads, mostly to ourselves didn't sound entirely unappealing. With Jet on the hunt, our Captain and Vespa stocking up on other necessary supplies at a nearby market, our cramped little home was nearly abandoned. If Rita were deep in the plot of some stream, somehow mercifully absent from this side trip of ours, she might hardly notice us drop in at all. We could sneak past light as two giddy school children moving beyond an off limits door, hand in hand.
I allow myself a moment to look over to him, entertaining the thought. I've been doing that a lot as of late - casting glimpses in his direction when I think he's not paying attention, hoping to study him under the guise of a polite smile, a mischievous wink. Hoping to better understand the man he's become in my absence. This is the problem with Juno Steel: he was always paying attention. Where I drifted into the corners of my own mind he flourished in the act of observation. I worried how much he would see of me in return if I stared too long, how many files and folders of what I'd so meticulously tucked away he might take and dump all over the floor at my feet.
But here, his focus occupied by our little game, he's distracted enough for now. I take in the scar on his cheek, the long sweep of his lashes, the warm hue of an eye he doesn't seem to bemoan the loss of anymore. He's relaxed, like all which lies ahead of us doesn't bother him at all. I envy his ability to adapt while remaining true to who he is. He shouts down the world with a determination I've come to admire, as though he alone could change its course with enough willpower.
I could take him up there, yes. Steal away for a while, shut out the rest of the world. I knew his bed aboard the ship better than my own. As much as I wanted suddenly to keep him all to myself, tell him everything I was thinking in clandestine whispers in the dark, I decide against it. He's prettier in the sun these days compared to the dim I found him first in. A small, stubborn beacon in his own right, drawing me in over and over to shore.
"Right," I murmur. For a moment I'm too taken aback by the strength of my own emotions to say anything else. My fingers tighten around his. He smiles up at me, squinting in the sun's glare.
"You never answered my question."
"Hmm? Oh, right. Yes, the Rubik's cube is an old toy once used commonly on Earth and while I don't know how quickly it takes to solve one on average I think your two minutes was quite impressive-"
"No. Ha. Not that one." He points. "What they're wearing."
"Oh! Yes, of course." I study the newest target, still standing in the same spot. My opinion is instant.
"Hideous."
"Come on," Juno complains, "really? All that orange? You wouldn't wear it?"
"Hardly." I sniff. "If it were sheer, maybe."
"Alright, what about..."
He trails off as he scans the street. Patiently I lean back into the wall behind us, watching him attempt to pick someone at random. I could do this forever, if time allowed me. Even now I hear the clock ticking, each movement of its hands louder than the last.
"Okay. That person, right there."
Our faces scrunch up into mutual expressions of disdain. "Horrible," I say before I can stop myself. "Possibly the worst outfit I've seen all afternoon."
" Finally ," Juno says in exasperation. "We agree on one. What is that?"
"The color? A cross between the maelstrom of a Neptunian windstorm and whatever mud currently is stuck under the soles of my shoes."
He chuckles, shaking his head. Delight from him doesn't come often enough, and when it does I'm always taken aback by the youth of its nature. I'm left wanting more of his laughter each time it fades. "It's terrible, right?"
"Atrocious. I can't stand the sight."
"See, our tastes aren't entirely different, Nureyev."
"Perhaps not."
I glance down to the collar of my shirt - his shirt, a little too loose on my frame. He somehow still hadn't noticed I was wearing beneath my jacket. Knowing him, this new version as I was beginning to understand him, likely he took instant notice first thing this morning and was going to let me wear it without saying anything at all. I, in turn, was doing much the same. My earring currently hung from his left ear, a small golden star I'd spent two days hunting for. He wasn't trying to hide it.
I squeeze his palm, momentarily mesmerized not by the light glinting off the metal, but by a feeling so grand I don't try to catalogue it or store it away. "No, Juno, perhaps not."