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Paul set down their blanket quite a way away from the rest of the crowd gathering in the Hatchetfield park to watch the meteors tonight. Emma glanced at him, for she saw right through his clumsy attempt at some privacy. But then she smiled to let him know she didn’t mind.
"Here," she said, tugging his hand. "Sit down."
Paul sat down next to her. Emma scooted a little closer, pulling his arm around her, and she felt him relax against her. He seemed to have this notion that, a mere few weeks since they had started seeing each other, he needed to prove himself and that everything he did around her was the object of her scrutiny. Emma wasn’t about to let him know how little he needed to worry − likely because she enjoyed the boost of confidence of his special attentions. She liked him just fine, the way he treated her. He could fret all he wanted, but she always felt calmer around him.
"It’s dumb, right?" She said and grabbed the plaid from her bag to cover their legs with it. "Looking at big rocks falling from the sky like, what, 50 miles up in the air? 70?"
He let out some awkward chuckle. His hand found hers at her shoulder, clasping her palm in his.
"It’s kind of bogus," he admitted. He seemed emboldened by her remark and evidently gave himself permission to rant as well. "Everyone keeps talking about your place in the universe and illumination and everything, but who has honestly been changed by looking at the night sky?"
She smirked. Paul had this way of getting animated over whichever human endeavors did not make sense to him. It clashed with the quieter part of him that was usually mellow, though mostly out apathy. A flat line suddenly peaking sharp and vivid. She liked that about him. There was a lot to like about Paul.
"I think it’s self serving," he went on. A shiver ran down Emma’s back and he held her closer, rubbing her thigh warm with the hand that wasn’t holding hers. "Everyone wants to feel like they’ve done this Instagram-worthy inspiring thing, like they’ve met up with people for it, but really they’re just…"
But she nudged him and nodded towards the sky.
"Shut up," she said with a smile, "It’s starting, look."
"Oh. Okay."
Dots in the sky tracing down fuzzy lines, the meteors were falling in a flutter of so distant elegance. Emma smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder. People around were ooh-ing and aah-ing with every passing moment. Paul squeezed her hand softly.
"They make me think of the end of the world," she said.
He turned to her and they stared at each other with curious smiles.
"They do?" He asked.
She shrugged.
"Isn’t that what they say dinosaurs saw before they were wiped out? Or maybe it really was aliens after all…"
He chuckled. Fingers toying with hers, slowly entwining, the caress of his thumb against her palm.
"Or maybe both," he said, "Aliens riding on meteors to come beat them up."
"Or the aliens were the meteors. And they just fucking hate dinosaurs."
They laughed. Steady as rainfall so far away, the meteors kept on without a care as to their accusations.
"So I guess this is our last night before they kill us too, huh?"
She was smiling and had meant this as banter but Paul blinked, looking at her with such untamed fondness he forgot to reply for a few seconds.
"I… Well, if they do, I’m… I’m glad to be here with you."
"Sure, Paul," she said and leaned back against his shoulder comfortably. "There’s nobody I’d rather die with than you."