She watched him as he slept, the moonlight shining over his features. He was beautiful. More than just physical beauty. There was a mysterious aura of awe-inspiring beauty that always seemed to surround him. Especially in these moments. These peaceful moments where he slept, after making love to her. She could stare at him all night trying to discern the thoughts that might be going through his head, and never once succeed. She felt even if she knew him for centuries upon eons she would never understand what he was completely.
Sometimes she wondered if he cared about her. She knew-she thought- she was in love with him. It wasn't love at first sight, like some people though. Sure he'd saved her life, but that didn't automatically win him her love. Maybe it wasn't even him she was in love with. Maybe it was the mystery surrounding him. The anticipation that maybe next time he might reveal a bit of himself to her, even though it would never happen. But then again, wasn't that him? The epitome of mystery. So she did love him, and all that he was about. Which was not something she would ever know.
One of those things she would never know was how he felt about her. On some nights he made her feel like she was the only one that mattered. That nothing in the world would separate him from her. Then the next night it seemed as if he only tolerated her. Giving her what she wanted just to keep her happy. And sometimes he wanted her right then and right there, in rough animalistic passion. Then in contrast there were times where he just sat and talked to her about life, death, philosophy, beliefs, and morals. There were even rare occasions where he would sit in silence, his usual smile gone, reflecting on something locked deep within himself that she yearned to for him to share.
Tonight had been a good night. He had been sweet and devoted to her, gentle in his love-making. She loved it when he treated her like a lady, like a girl. Not many did. But he did, sometimes. And it was enough. It was enough to keep her with him. She felt that he knew that, he had to. And sometimes it didn't matter if he returned her feeling or not. Sometimes.