The blackness was punctured by the dazzling stars and their keeper, the moon, above him. They stared down at him silently but he could not tell if their silence was reprimanding or not. Everywhere else was blackness- he doubted he would see something three feet away from him. And yet, even though he had always been one for roaring brightness, the blackness did not bother him. To make it complete he shut his eyes, letting it wash over him. He didn't need to see anything that was around him. Not yet.

Finally his sharp ears picked up a sound in the pure silence. It was nothing much, nothing startling, but it sent jolts through his body. It was the sound of a sleeping bag being unzipped a few yards away. He needed to hear everything and so he held his breath. The footsteps were lighter than raindrops falling on soil but they pounded as loudly as his heart to him. And then there was an inhale, and every bit of him tensed. Pure silence rested across him again. And he waited.

Fingers gently rested on his ankles, and the air was forced out of his lungs. He kept his eyes closed, still succumbing to the darkness in case it was all a trick of his mind. But the touch came again, this time to his knees. And he felt her body heat as she leant closer and closer to him, her hands using his body as a guideline in the dark. She stopped when she was parallel to him; her feet resting on either side of his, her chest a mere foot away from his being held there by her arms which rested next to his shoulders, her fingers on his neck.

He opened his eyes and a bit of light returned to his world. He heard and felt a shifting above him and suddenly he could see blue. Glorious, wonderful blue that made him miss the ocean and the reflections of the ice in the poles. The blue came closer and closer, as silent as possible. And then she was touching his lips with her own, the best contact he'd had in his life. She let out a happy sigh, breaking the stillness and washing over his body in waves he did not know existed.

She let her body rest on his and he smelled her. A scent he could not describe but craved. And he knew she was smelling spices- she'd told him once that he always smelled of heat. It had perplexed him, before he remembered that the other woman smelled of warmth and spices too when he'd kissed her. He'd never noticed, frankly. And he knew he much preferred Water Tribe clothes and the smell of water skin. He felt her fingers trickle up his neck, caressing the side of his cheek that was still whole. And then, ever so gently, she moved to the other side. He didn't know whether to scream or laugh. The silence was suddenly heavy.

She noticed the stiffness in his body and her fingers returned to his neck. An apology broke the heaviness by fluttering into his ear from lips pressed there. And he found himself running his fingers through the most glorious of textures. He wanted to keep them there forever. Her lips returned to his and the night continued to pace towards the day.

Every one of his senses was on fire.