Good question. Why do you ask? Clearly, you weren't surprised. I had asked the question out of the blue, as was typical of me.

Because in many ways, honesty is dead. People in general can barely manage to be truthful to themselves, let alone other people. The truth hurts too much. The truth frightens people. I paused from our walk and you turned to face me. The cold November wind whipped our hair everywhere.

You opened your mouth to speak, and then paused. You always were so very careful with your words. Perhaps. You tucked a few wisps of my hair behind my ear, so that it couldn't hide my eyes.

And you stared into them.

I looked up. I saw all that I needed to see.

In many ways, we were strangers. Your eyes told me so. Oh sure, you knew the little personal things about me, as anyone would after being together for some time. But you knew nothing of what went on inside. And I knew nothing of your thoughts, either.

But it didn't matter. Because we had centuries to find out.

I think... Your voice filling the silence, a little raspy now. From the cold? Maybe. ...I think you think too much sometimes.

And then you made the world go away for a little while.

This was the result of a nodeshell challenge given to me by Byzantine.

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