The great red eye tracks its way across the giant's surface. An amalgam of vortices hurtling around with incredible force, fed by limitless energy from within the planet's magnetic core. It is a storm that has raged for eons and will endure for countless more. A squall comprised of gasses. A convergence of smaller, hotter storms that boil to the fore and cool into the red mass.
They say no life can survive here. Yet at the center of this gale, this ever growing mark on Jupiter's belt, dance lights from each joined storm. Lights that shade from white to pink to red as they tango ever closer to each other, that chitter with mad anticipation for the moment they finally touch. They exist below the cloudtops, beyond the scope of the prying eyes of passing satellites. Were there any observers to this phenomenon besides themselves, they might note several, odd things.
Behaviorists would see within them shivers of excitement, of longing, the mournful loneliness that comes with spending countless millennia apart as they slowly draw together. Chemists would murmur in awe at their unique make-up, exclaiming that they, apart from the oblate spheroid's atmosphere of hydrogen and helium, consist of carbon, oxygen and neon gasses, thought heretofore to be an impossible coalition. Religious scholars would point to them in wonder, and say that only a limitless God could conceive of such beauties, that only a designer would deign to break the rules It set for Its own reality. Authors would ponder their origins. From whence were they born? How did they learn to command the forces of the great planet's storms? Do they look at the stars and consider the nature of their own existence as we do? In their minds, or consciousness, if they do indeed possess these things, do they wonder if life of a ken beyond their understanding inhabits the little green planet millions of miles away?
Lovers however, lovers would see these lights and know, deep in their souls, the plight of those who seek a connection. Of the like within that seeks like. They would recognize in these lights the slow courtship of a strange gaseous creature, burning with a passion that is at once both familiar, yet entirely alien to our own.
And as these creatures grew ever closer to each other, they would smile at a promise long realized. At a consummated love, long overdue.