[ WP ] After the discovery of an alien race , an attempt to integrate them into society is made . It is decided that , at age 18 , every human will be paired with an alien companion .

`` Ah, with lips so supple, the very flick of your tongue could bring the God's to their knees...'' 
 
 His cheek brushed against the lobe of her ear, but she did not respond. 
 
 `` I wish only the indulgence did not have to end so prematurely.'' He inhaled deeply and paused. 
 
 `` But I suppose that is how things must be. It is merely that all things of beauty and radiance must come to an end, and while some may argue, attempt to discredit me with my actions, or make claims that all things, regardless of this beauty or of that radiance, are bound to die... To them, I say you understand nothing! You do not understand that I never said those words, and if I did I hope that I am to burst into flames this moment.'' 
 
 ``... Hmm? What is this? It seems I am flameless and the known has become the proven. For things that are boring, and things that are ugly, they are by no means exempt from the beauties of death. Ha! Absurd! Since when has the universe been so just? It is not that they do not die, but their death is meaningless. Is it not true that a light that imparts much in life, takes away just as much in death?'' 
 
 `` Not that such things matter to you, my darling! You are not such, and in fact you are quite bright... Quite bright, indeed.'' He ran his finger down her exposed arm. `` And I mean this in more ways than one! Staring upon your flesh makes me feel as if my eyes are the endless sky, and your body is as the vast fields and forests. Droplets of black, some large, some small, but all in its deepest pitch. How blessed I am to look upon you -- something so divine!'' 
 
 The knife in his right hand rose high above her. 
 
 `` Yet, gravity... compels me... Oh! How horrid! That I am forced to kill... my beloved!'' 
 
 The knife drops an inch. 
 
 `` And it continues to lower. No weight upon its hilt and no hand upon my shoulder. But the knife drops.'' 
 
 Her eyes were wide, but they showed no emotion. 
 
 `` And I am sure it is apparent to the prophets who gaze upon me in their dreams, and to those historians who read my texts in the future, that I am compelled by nothing other than myself. And that is why it is a compulsion I am forced to act upon. Because it is in ethical fastidiousness that we learn to reject the most powerful force we know, and that is acute desire. It is why passion is a fire, and not just merely a whim.'' 
 
 The knife drops to an inch from her chest and his head moves in close. 
 
 `` Tell me, my sweet... Do I kill salvation? Or do I save it? No, this moment is precious and wasted on philosophy. No, tell me... Do you... bleed red?''
