The crystalline water, the brilliant blue sky and the mountain range all around gave off a distinct feel of a visit inside of a Raphael’s painting.
What had been a fun trip had turned into something else the minute I had bumped into him. I wondered if he would pop the question even now while I sat lost in my thoughts.
That would never do. I reminded myself of the real reason I had brought him here. Would he be the same if he knows my true identity?
We were separated by not just distance but by millions of years of evolution. Would he still look at me the same way if he knew my real form or that of my home world that his people called the “Proxima Centaurus”?