Shiro traces his finger slowly in the air, drawing a pattern through the stars.
“That one’s Draco,” he says. “A dragon. Like you.”
Tatsuki, lying beside him on the blanket, looks puzzled. Her eyes search the night sky, flicking across the tiny pinpricks of starlight.
“I don’t see it.”
They both sit up and Shiro points the constellation out again, linking the stars together slower this time. Tatsuki watches him, concentrating on discerning the image of a dragon from the snaking movements of his hands.
“It’s not the whole picture. Just an outline. Enough to imagine the rest.”
“Not much of a dragon. All I see is a big curvy line.”
“All most people see when they look at you is a scrawny little girl.”
Tatsuki thumps him in the arm affectionately. “Is there a constellation for ‘an idiot who runs his mouth too much’?”
“Actually, yeah there is,” he says confidently. “Orion apparently bragged he would hunt down and kill all the animals on earth. So one of the gods got mad and sent a scorpion to fuck him up and now he’s just a bunch of stars in the sky.”
“Wow, so I guess the moral of the story is that you better learn to watch your mouth,” she says with a teasing smile.
He kisses her. “Oh, I think I know exactly what my mouth is doing.”