You rarely had visitors from other worlds where you lived. It was a rural village with only few modern amenities and you lived in harmony with nature. Of course you had your data pad, you had electricity and you knew what was going on out there in the outside world but here in this little village surrounded by trees for hundreds and thousands of miles you had your little sanctuary from the rest of the galaxy, a little hideaway and you cherished the remoteness, the peace and calm and the simplicity of this place. Even more when you took a look at the news on the holonet...all these senseless conflicts, politics, economics...you considered yourself lucky to be far away from that, close to nature, with the humming of the crickets and the howling of the wolves at night when the campfire slowly burned down and everybody went to sleep. This was your favorite time of the day. Sitting by the campfire with no one around but the animals in the woods and the stars above your head.
The arrival of the spaceship disturbed your peace. It shook you hard to hear the engines drowning out the rustling of the trees with their rumbling, leaving a puddle of mud and dirt at the landing site where there had been grass and flowers and insects just seconds before. A metal monstrosity in your ideal world disrupting the peace you never took for granted, loud and crude – like the men that came with it.
They were four, covered in heavy armor, wearing helmets that kept you from seeing their faces, impersonal, frightening. And a girl. At least she was in civilian clothes. At least you could see her eyes and find kindness in them.
Your chieftain approached the intruders, fierce and fearless with her wrinkly face, sun-tanned skin and laugh lines that told a story of a life full of peace and harmony. Their leader finally took off the helmet, became recognizable as a human being, allowed us to see his face, his eyes, his micro expressions, everything you were deprived of by the helmets. He looked tired. He asked your leader if they could stay for the night, find some rest and leave tomorrow. Your chieftain agreed – if they took off their helmets and their armor.
And be no trouble.
Most of all that.
You were a peaceful tribe and even though you rarely had visitors hospitality was a given. Some of the villagers went out to hunt a bigger animal for a barbecue in the evening to honor the guests who showed up so uninvitedly but were welcome nonetheless.
The girl quickly mingled with the local kids who curiously asked her about the outside world – it was easy to make friends at that age.
But the men stuck out, even without their armor. They were still loud, especially the biggest one of them who seemed to be inherently extroverted. Their leader was loud to manifest his alpha position in the squad. And the guy with the goggles was loud to show off his knowledge.
And then there was the fourth man.
You were shaken to your foundations when he took his armor off.
He was a cyborg, crude metal all over his body. You had even missed the scomp arm when he still wore that armor, overwhelmed by the impressions of the loud spaceship, the settling dust and the mannerless soldiers.
He had metal legs too. And ports on his head and a head piece with lights. The color of his skin was ashen and the cheeks hollow. There was not much left of him that was natural, biological, the way it was supposed to be.
A monstrosity, an abomination, misplaced like the ship in your beautiful village.
An offense to nature.
You were appalled.
You eyeballed the men, loud and raucous, disturbing the peace and quiet of your village. Only the cyborg held back. When the other three talked and laughed he often stood at the sideline, watched them interact but didn't interfere.
He didn't have to be loud to foster his extroversion, manifest an alpha position or show off his knowledge.
He was just there.
You could see in his face that he disapproved of a lot of things the others said or did.
He even seemed to be embarrassed for invading your peaceful village, for their loud voices and the damage they had done to the meadow when they had landed the ship.
And for taking advantage of your hospitality.
But he hardly ever said anything.
He didn't need to get the other's attention all the time. Just crossed his arms or frowned now and then.
He was quiet.
Self-sufficient.
You watched them all day from the corner of your eye.
Until you realized that all you really watched was him.
Watched him being quiet.
Watched him scrunching his nose.
Crossing his arms when he didn't approve of something the others said or did.
Those were exactly the things that upset you about them too.
And you realized you weren't appalled anymore.
Even though he was a cyborg.
Unnatural.
Challenging your sense of aesthetics.
Your love for everything natural.
It didn't matter anymore.
He had a sweetness and depth of character that made him special.
For you.
——-
In the night, after a loud and excessive dinner around the campfire with the other villagers who slowly got just as loud as the three men with every glass of alcohol they consumed to celebrate this rare occasion to have guests from an outside world, after all this when it was finally quiet and the last one had gone to bed you go out to the campfire to enjoy your moment of peace and quiet after a day that had been way too loud and turbulent for your taste.
Maybe take your time to muse about that strange familiarity and warmth you felt when you looked at that man while you look into the fire, watch it burn down until the cold of the night ends your day and you return to your hut.
But someone is there, sitting on a log.
He is there.
The cyborg.
Your heart misses a beat when you see him stare into the fire with his big eyes that seem to harbor a whole galaxy.
He looked stressed out all day. You could see his nose scrunch and his eyebrows furrow constantly when his loud comrades roamed around and discussed about their next mission.
Now he looks almost peaceful, relieved of the stress to counter the other's plans or be embarrassed about the volume of their voices in your quiet peaceful village.
For a moment you just stand there, watch the warm light of the campfire reflect on his skin, look at the peaceful expression on his face.
Maybe he liked nature just as much as you did.
Maybe he just didn't have a choice.
You slowly approach him.
A shy "Hey" escapes your lips. It is almost a whisper.
He looks up, surprised someone's still awake in the middle of the night. "Hey" he answers just as shyly, just as quietly as you. Maybe even more.
This is your place, your time, still you feel like you should give him the courtesy to ask. "Do you mind me sitting here? Do you want to be alone?"
A shy smile forms on his lips and he softly shakes his head. "This is your village. I am the intruder. Of course I don't mind you sitting here."
You sit down at the log, maybe 5 feet away from him. Not too close but not too far away to talk to him either. The flames of the campfire reflect in his big golden eyes.
You feel nervous in his presence. You've never met someone like him before. Not a soldier, not a cyborg.
And you can't make sense of the feelings you developed throughout the day.
The way you are drawn to him.
Even though you don't like metal, never liked it.
Even though he is an offense to your love for everything natural.
For some time both of you just stare into the fire, watch the flames flicker, the little sparks fly out in the starry sky above you.
You observe yourself, observe your own feelings.
That feeling in your chest.
The butterflies in your stomach.
Your trembling hands.
A rare feeling. You don't even remember the last time when you felt like this. Maybe some time during your puberty.
It is absolutely childish.
And absolutely gorgeous.
When was the last time you felt so stirred up and...alive.
"The others seem to know each other pretty well" you break the silence after some time.
The man looks up, surprised. He didn't expect you to start a conversation. "Yeah they do."
"You looked a bit sidelined there" you add tentatively, hoping you don't cross a line.
The man looks into the camp fire. "I was a late addition to the team."
"They seem to be a lot louder than you" you continue.
The man scoffs quietly. "Yeah."
You let the words sit and overthink if you really want to say what you are about to say. But before you come to a conclusion your mouth just drops the words. "Still you were all I could see."
The man freezes. He keeps on staring at the campfire, avoids your look. After some time he swallows, crunches his nose and briefly looks over to you. "Ok…"
That's all. Nothing else. His voice is not cold, not dismissive. Just insecure. You get the feeling that he's in over his head.
Not that this didn't apply for you too.
Both of you keep on staring at the campfire.
For a long time.
Way too long.
You begin to feel uncomfortable.
You are about to get up to end this mortifying situation when you hear his husky voice. "Erm…I'm sorry…I have no idea how that works."
You blink a few times and feel the butterflies again.
Feel your chest heave.
Look over to him.
He briefly looks over to you too, but the shock wave of adrenaline flooding your body when your eyes meet is so overwhelming you quickly look away again.
"Well...do you...erm...like me back?" you ask cautiously and try to hide the trembling in your voice.
This is...so childish.
But so intense.
You don't even know each other at all. You just watched him all day. And he…he probably didn't even notice you. You are making a fool of yourself with this question. Your heart made you wish for something but didn't warn you that everything that happened was just in your head. And in your heart.
But he will leave tomorrow, you tell yourself. You'll never see him again. If you messed it up there will be no consequences.
And you are drawn to him.
Overwhelmed by his presence.
You don't even know why.
He's a cyborg. Not what you normally have in mind when you think about a man.
"Yes" he whispers and you feel another wave of adrenaline taking control of you. You wonder if he felt your eyes on him all day. He probably did. He's a soldier, trained to notice when someone observes him. And you are...well just a normal person. A civilian. Absolutely inexperienced when it comes to observing someone without them noticing. It was probably pretty obvious that you watched him.
But maybe that's what got you his attention.
You look over to him, hoping to catch his eye yet terribly afraid you could because you know you would shy away from his look and he would probably shy away from yours too.
It would feel unbearably close.
You swallow. Look in his direction but not directly at him. He does the same.
You are both unsure what to do with your revelation.
You take a few breaths, listen to the crackling of the fire, try to use it to ground yourself. Then you slowly get up with shaky knees and sit down right next to him.
Your bodies almost touch.
Almost...
There is tension in the air. You want to get close to him, touch him. But you are afraid it will be too much. It's been a long time since you felt this way. It's overwhelming.
You look over to his hand to your right, a glove covering what's probably ashen skin like the rest. Or another cyborg part. The thought hadn't crossed your mind before.
For a moment you hesitate. But you want to hold his hand so badly. And you want to feel his skin touch yours.
You are about to ask him if he can take the glove off for you. But then you realize he probably can't. How would he take off his glove if the other hand is a scomp link? He would have to pull it off with his teeth. The question would probably make im feel uncomfortable.
If something doesn't work as planned it is just an invitation to come up with something better. Your chieftain said these words often when things didn't go as planned. When the village had to face hardships and you wished you had more machinery to counter natural catastrophes. And she was right evey time. Challenges only stimulated your brain and helped you find solutions you would never have thought of before, often better than what you originally had planned.
Like now.
Wouldn't it be much nicer if you took off his glove?
You swallow yet another time, hear his breath go fast, shudder like yours, unsure how to proceed.
You turn towards him and still don't dare to look him in the eye – even less now that you're so close. The tension would kill you.
You take your right hand and put it on his left. It feels soft. No cyborg part. It must be biological.
You squeeze his hand gently, then slowly retreat, take your other hand and begin to pull the glove's fingers off, one by one. Slowly. Gently. Always just a little bit. Maybe half an inch.
You take your time. And when you're done with all fingers you start over and pull them off a little bit more.
He swallows and his breath leaves his mouth in little huffs in the quiet of the night.
You lick over your lips and breathe through your mouth, not sensually, just nervously, full of anticipation.
It's just a hand.
But it's his hand.
You finally pull the glove off, slowly, gently, and put it on the log next to you.
You put your right hand on his forearm that's still covered by his blacks and carefully move down.
You almost flinch when you touch his skin for the first time.
It is soft and cold.
And perfect.
Just a hand.
But his.
You feel the butterflies again when you reach his fingers and they move to return your touch, brush over your skin, gently caress you, shyly, softly, sweet and innocent.
And it is more intimate than everything you ever experienced.
Just two hands touching.
But yours.
And you still can't look up, afraid you'll be overwhelmed by the intimacy when your eyes meet up close.
So you keep on staring at the flames while you softly brush your thumb over the back of his hand and feel his fingers wandering over yours.
And the crackling of the fire and the howling of the wolves and the starry sky above you were just made for this moment when you had the most intimate yet innocent experience with the most unlikely person you would fall for.
You control your breathing. In and out. Chest heaving.
But no routine can stop your breath from shuddering.
You know you want to move on.
You know you will move on eventually.
But every minute that passes by makes you even more nervous.
You lick over your lips another time and finally do it.
Finally look over.
Look into his eyes.
Up close.
Your breath shudders.
His breath shudders too.
He is just as overwhelmed as you are.
Your faces so close.
Your eyes saying so much.
No words needed.
You raise your shivering hand, cup his cheek and slowly run your thumb over his soft skin.
You could never just kiss him. You need to establish this contact with your hand before you can even think about it.
The man closes his eyes, overwhelmed by the sensation of the touch of your hand and he nestles his head against your palm. Everything's in slow motion. You are in the present, right here.
A whole world just made of your fingers caressing each other and your hand on his cheek.
Peaceful.
Calm.
Perfect.
Holding his face grounds you.
Grounds him.
But both of you are in over your heads.
The intimacy of it is almost unbearable.
And yet so wonderful.
So rare.
You lean forward and run your nose along his cheek, feel his soft skin, his warm breath on your face. Feel the tingling in your stomach. Gently move closer until your lips find each other. Slowly let them touch, just a vague idea of a kiss, both of you barely moving your lips.
And you retreat your heads and look at each other. Finally dare to allow yourselves to drown in each other's eyes, nervously, tensely, but finally without fear. Just beginning to understand what you feel. How many feelings fit into these little hearts of yours.
And you kiss again. Softly. No tongue, no saliva, no passion, just love. Just your lips touching. Carefully, intimately. Anything else would spoil this moment. You need to learn to endure to feel so close to each other without overriding it with passion. Just your love, pure love with nothing to shield your hearts.
And you find a rhythm. Sometimes just look at each other, sometimes allow your lips to touch. Your hand on his cheek and the other one on his, brushing over his skin until he lifts it up and cups your cheek like you cup his. Looks into your eyes for what feels like an eternity before his lips softly brush over yours again. Just the two of you in the darkness of the night. Lost in your love.
You have no idea how long you go on like this but after a long time of bliss the night's getting cold and you want to lay down. It's not uncommon for you to sleep at the campfire and there are plenty of blankets around. You take one of them and put it on the ground, lay down with him and cover your bodies with another one. And you lay there, facing each other, warming each other with your bodies close, looking into your eyes. Kissing some more times then putting your head down at his chest, his arm around you, your arm around his waist, feeling a last kiss on your forehead before you fall asleep, serene, the happiest human beings in the galaxy.
You wake up from the noise of the engines. The ship leaves early at the crack of dawn.
And he leaves with it.
Forever.
He was the most unlikely person to fall in love with.
And yet you did.
You knew it would be just this night.
And don't even know his name. You never asked him, didn't have to.
You didn't need words.
What you had didn't need a name.
He snuck away.
He snuck away so you both wouldn't have to go through the pain of a goodbye.
And you feel the loss.
But even more you feel gratitude to have experienced this moment of pure love and intimacy.
Some people would live a hundred years and never have a moment like this.
But you did.
And it filled your heart with love, endless love that changed you forever.