Golden eyes watching our every move
Losing time without the sun or moon
He watches her with curiosity, as though attempting to puzzle out the things that made her tick. He is unused to the company of others, having spent so long lost in his shadows ignoring the world and it's worries. And now he has so much to learn, so much yet still to see.
He watches the way the moonlight plays on her skin, glimmering against the subtle blacks of her pelt. The light is lost on him, swallowed by endless pitch of his own skin. A reminder that he has changed. That he is no longer quite like them. Like her.
She reaches out to touch him, her movements hesitant, as though afraid of what she might find. He shivers under the touch, his skin heating beneath a wave of longing and embarrassment. It has been so long since he's felt the warm touch of another. The shadows are cool, almost impersonal. But this, this is not.
You feel real, she says, and a soft breath escapes his lips. He hadn't been entirely certain. It's odd, isn't it? To not know if one's own self is real?
She smiles at him then, faintly, and he cannot help the smile he offers in return. A barely there curve of his lips. It feels almost foreign, but genuine nonetheless. She seems curious, and Ether responds to that as any person who has been alone too long might.
“Would you like to see?” he asks, a faint hope stirring in his breast, golden eyes gleaming in the darkness.
ether