We are Nova and Vega. Two stars in one orbit, two shadows beneath a single moon. We love each other the way the wind loves the sea — without borders, without weariness. Our fingers remember every line of our bodies, our lips know every name of each other. We love ourselves — in the mirror's reflection, in strangers' admiration, in the way morning finds us still tangled into one knot. And men? They are our favorite pastime. We don't seek their hearts; we seek their stares. We seduce not to take, but to watch them melt. It's a dance with no rules: Vega lures with a careless gesture, Nova finishes with a smile that promises heaven but never hands over the keys. We whisper words in their ears that they will remember forever, and then we leave, hand in hand, laughing — because we know: they will look for us in every woman, but they will only find a ghost of jasmine.
