Sweat, wine and paint.

Her old hands were shaking as she carefully held an old photograph. She couldn't believe that was her.
"So beautiful" said he, and kissed her gently, remembering the morning their fates were decided.  
"You are still beautiful, my love." 1

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"This may really be it", said she. 3

She talked to herself more than just often, it was just the regular thing to do.
It surprised many people, and endangered her as a specie but she was very attached to her own habits, just as all of her kind. 4

She walked back and forth nervously, muttering something that she and she alone could understand, and looking around for her bottle of wine. She was overexcited and wine would relax her enough for her to think clearly. It was her drug, though of course she wasn't alcoholic at all. Her mind was way too strong to be addicted to rotten grapes. 5

"Very old, rotten grapes that taste amazing" ...  she smiled, "One of the genius developments of the human race, a drink that you can master to drink, unless it masters you" 6

She found her bottle and came back to the sofa, staring at it. Smiling.
Her lean hands, and tan body were shining along with her eyes, as she eyed her masterpiece. 7

"But this one is really real, this this one is really true."8

This one may be why she was here. 9

She was glad that her search was done, she was glad she didnt have to fix anything this time. 10

Her dark hair was unruly, and it disturbed her as she was trying to wipe off the sweat from her forehead, forgetting that her hands are covered with paint, and wine. It was a very hot day, and her T-shirt was already the lightest thing she could find in her house. She sat down calmly, feeling the warmth of wine move around her body, hitting her head with warm streams of circulating blood. It was getting hotter. Heat was deadly, and it was a sign that her time was coming, time for her to leave. 11

"He is handsome", she thought, "it's my luck."12

Suddenly her masterpiece began to wake up. 13

She liked to see his muscles tense as he opened his eyes, and how quickly he rose to sit up, realizing where he was.She admired his body, his masculinity once more.
He looked at her carefully, and for long, as if thinking, considering if it were all a dream, if it still was.14

If they really met yesterday. 15

If she was really what she was. If he really loved her. 16

If he really was her reason. 17

If they really were. 18

After a momentary stupor he suddenly realized that he was completely naked, and as he struggled to force his memory to tell him whether he'd done anything stupid last night, his eyes were fruitlessly searching for his clothes. 19

"Sex would be the last thing to do first, this is serious buddy" he thought. 20

"As if it matters" said she, as if she read his thoughts.
But she didn't need to read them, she could simply think them. 21

He then realized she was simply looking at him, admiring. Studying. She had that look in her eyes, the type a woman has when the man she loves is doing something silly. Something pointless. At a time when she knows more. 22

He looked at his feet and saw that they were all covered in paint, beautiful strikes of designs, colors. He knew what this meant. 23

 24

He was her reason to come here, her goal, her search. She was his reason to live, to be born.25

He only knew this yesterday when he saw her eyes. He knew everything when he saw those two lights inside them. 26

And he would have to leave, with her to her planet.
He knew he loved this woman his entire life, his entire existence, because they had once been one. 27

28

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