I knew, I am certain, love. This mon-keigh, this human woman, she was different from the Eldar in more ways than is apparent, and similar in so many others.
Certainly, she had some of the crude and childish traits normally associated with their kind, but more than that, she had a kind of vitality, a kind of energy,
I have not encountered before, or since. Our routine continued, for a time, and the memory of it alone holds an intensity no other experience can match. She
would return, after a meeting, or seeing to some problems with the reconstruction, and I would find myself all but waiting at the door - More than a stranger who had taken me
in when I needed it, more than the friend and lover I would never have considered one of her kind for, even, I needed her with a near-physical fervor. At times, I scared myself with my
desire for excess, barely able to contain it, and when she came home to me, I could not manage even that. I loved; we loved, as I have never loved before. At times with such soft gentleness that I could not believe she was human, and at times with such vigor that there could be no mistake, all but tearing the clothes from each other, desperate for a closeness that could be acheived only in the pressing-together of our naked bodies, in the moans and screams that resulted, as we would grind against each other, both wanting the next inevitable climax and dreading it, in that it would herald the eventual end of our stamina, leaving us panting, side by side, capable of no more than whispering sweet words.