She loved the comets. Till she saw him.

They shared one class a week. He always seemed to sit in the same spot, alone, sometimes with his iPad, sometimes with a thick book, sometimes with both.

Sometimes with glasses, sometimes without.

"Looks cute either way," she concluded.

The scrious face, kind eyes, sheer concentration, and quiet mannerism made him seem different, someone above them all.

Of a higher species. With intangible thoughts. Untouchable. And her, simple, plain, and kind of dull.He was meant to stand out; she was meant to blend in. The universe smiled sweetly upon her. With time, they started sharing more classes. From strangers to classmates, they finally became friends.

They talked all the time, were always together. "So many similarities yet so different," she observed. With all their issues, they fit perfectly. Like a broken piece of cutlery with ragged edges.

But when put together, they fit. Perfectly.

His smiles and laughs were rare, and she made sure to collect as many as she could. He started smiling more often.

She started valuing them more.

Together, they made themselves better.

The strange city finally felt like home.

Comets are beautiful, but momentary.

They don't stay forever. They don't have hugs that feel warm and toasty. They don't make her eyes shine as bright. They don't know how to comfort her or make her laugh. She still loved the comets. But she loved him more.

The universe smiled again, but with sadness. And probably with pity. "There's a reason the comets are

momentary child."