Qilby, 21 but eternal, may never tire of these little moments.
They lie on a bed of sand under a canopy of stars anchored by two moons, the night their escape from the dead heat of summer; Qilby has successfully dragged Chibi out of his workshop and into the dark to his favorite stargazing spot. They lie across the beach linked only by their hands and the night sky above them.
"You're growing your beard out," Chibi remarks, and pulls at the long trail of hair on Qilby's chin with his other hand. "It looks nice." Qilby smiles and swats Chibi's hand away. A long but comfortable silence passes until Chibi breaks it.
"Do you think anything's up there? Anyone else, like us?"
"There's no doubt in my mind," Qilby responds, resolute even with the smile on his face, focusing hard on a constellation as though his eyes could rocket him up to it. "And someday we'll go there."
"Hey, don't be too serious; I'm the old man here! I'm pushing thirty already!" Chibi laughs and laces his fingers tighter with Qilby's. The sound of Chibi's carefree laughter over the crashing waves sounds like bells to Qilby's fond ears.
"Thirty isn't old at all," Qilby says; he knows what it is to be old.