Ouch.

So she is mad at him again. Nothing new there. She always is. He wouldn't have it any other way.

He spends these quiet times alone watching the stars, feeling both lonely and content. Space is ever-so-empty, yet beautiful. So dead and so very interesting. He can look into its depths for hours on end. But his thoughts always return. To here. To her.

Yes. Zoe, the most beautifully tough woman in all the worlds. He closes his eyes, envisioning her stature, her hair. Smelling her smell. Nothing like the smell of a buff woman. A smile spreads.

Oh.

And here she comes now. Yep. Still mad. He can tell by her pace. The grin widens. She's saying something now. Something grave. But who cares? He only stares at her luscious lips and keeps grinning like an idiot. No. He answers in his head. I'm not listening. Why would I do that at a time like this?

Finally she gives in and stops talking. Their lips touch after she settles into his lap. Now he is listening. And, yes, she is still mad.

Ouch.