She sits with her back against his chest on the dewy grass.
For her, it is a romantic evening. For him, a scientific observation. They are both aware of the discrepancy of their aims, and both amenable to, and satisfied with, the contrast.
He had intended to watch the entire meteor shower. She had planned to doze in his lap.
She points at a bright streak, awed, and his lips are soft and warm on her cheek.
When she asks, he explains orbital mechanics. When he slides his arms around her, tight, she twines her fingers through his.
Above them, the Perseids arc, blazing.
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