There's a thing we used to do, the both of us, where every time someone asked us how we met, we would change the answer each time and sort of just roll with it. He met me in women's prison, I saved his life from a bounty hunter, he was a famous actor I was infatuated with, I was sent on a mission with intents to kill him but in a crazy turn of events gave him mercy and we decided to stick together. That last one is my favorite, because truth be told, it's the closest to what actually happened. The mission thing isn't true, just the sticking together part. When two people are doomed to live indefinitely, it's only natural that they live indefinitely together, right? That's what we decided to do. End of story.
She tried to make a joke out of it, didn't she? Predictable. You see, she does that when she doesn't want to answer a question. And you didn't even notice, did you? Just thought she was being stubborn, and never noticed that she's quite able to tiptoe her way around whatever she wants or doesn't want you to know. I've been with her too long to fall into that one again. If you're looking for the real answer, here it is. We don't remember. I asked her once, if she remembered. She took it as rhetorical, like I already knew the answer, and laughed it off. She didn't know. And I didn't know. That's why I asked the question, I mean. The only question I can't seem to find the answer to is how her and I happened to have our lifetimes entwined with one another. It's probably sad to think that we don't have the privilege of remembering how this all began. I myself think it's almost another undocumented star to add onto our own little galaxy.