When they're on the ship, he's different. Himself, but more...fulfilled. It's their special place to go on starry nights when they want to get away, leave the world behind and pretend they alone exist.
They sit on the side, his arm around her shoulders and hers around his waist. He points to constellations and tells her the stories behind each one. She makes a point to capture every detail, the way his hair seems to float gently in the wind, how his mouth quirks up at certain points in his tales, the way his hand strokes her leg, her face, her hair.
But mostly what captivates her is how his eyes seem to sparkle, to reflect the stars, even when he gazes down at her. She's never felt more mesmerized in her life, and when his hand cups her face, caressing it ever so softly, when his eyes flutter closed and she feels hers do the same, and finally when his lips touch hers, she doesn't know how to feel except, happy, elated, content.
How is ecstasy summed up with mere words? Is it ever?
She decides no. So she remembers each and every sensation, but more than anything she remembers the stars in his eyes and the joy reflected there, that touches her straight to her core and the heart that no longer belongs to her alone. She doesn't think she's ever been more willing to share something in her life.
