Oh shit. Am I laying with my head in his lap? I sure as hell am. This is awkward. Did I put myself here, or did he? Does it even matter?
I look up at Gro’s face. His eyes are closed, his nostrils gently flaring from slow, even breaths. Is he asleep? Sitting up? Or maybe that’s just how his kind sleep. Maybe he thinks I’m weird for laying down. As an anthropologist these are important questions.
But I find the main query floating up into my scattered thoughts is whether or not Gog has a girlfriend. I kind of get the impression he doesn’t. He wouldn’t be so sad all the time otherwise.
Then it hits me, what if that’s why he’s sad? Did he have someone special and then something happened to her?
Without really thinking about it, I reach up and touch the lines of his face. He’s so damn good looking, really. I’ve never been attracted to aliens, but I”ve never been not attracted to them, either. It was just something I didn’t really think about. I dated members of my own sapient species, when I dated at all.
But there’s just something about Gog that I find hopelessly compelling. Who knows? Maybe if I find a way off this rock, I can take him on a tour to different universities as a representative of his people. That would make one hell of a paper, maybe even a full book.
“That feels nice.”
Startled, I pull my hand away. I hadn't known that he was awake. Gog’s purple eyes open and meet my gaze.
“Sorry,” I whisper, not sure what else to say. His hand strokes my hair softly, almost like a lover.
“You have nothing to apologize for. I like it when you touch me.”
Oh fuck me! Is this guy trying to seduce me? Or is it just wishful thinking on my part? It’s official, I’ve read too many of those tawdry books you can find cheap on the holonet.
“It feels nice when you touch me, too.”
Oh god that was lame! I want to cringe so hard I become a singularity and pop out of existence. But Gog doesn’t seem to mind. His big fingers are gentle as they caress my cheek.
“You are lovelier than the grandest sunset, Micah.”
Now I’m sure he’s trying to seduce me. Or maybe not. He looks and sounds so sincere. So many of the men I’ve met try to hide what they’re thinking and feeling behind a thousand veils. Gog doesn’t talk about his feelings all the time, but they’re written all over his face.
“Careful, Gog. Say things like that to a girl and she might expect you to kiss her.”
He cocks an eyebrow.
“And what would be wrong with that?”
He starts, head lifting and gaze darting all about the oasis. I can feel his thigh muscle stiffen to rock hardness under my head.
“What’s wrong/” I ask.
He runs his finger along his lower lip, which I take to be a ‘shush’ gesture. I clam up real quick, worried more of those monsters might be coming for us. We disengage from each other and he picks up his bow.
The bow creaks as he strings it. Nocking an arrow, Gog steps protectively in front of me and faces the entrance to the oasis.
Something comes into view. My heart thunders and fear threatens to consume me. But when Gog sees the figure enter the oasis, he relaxes, loosening the tension on his bowstring.
Another member of Gog’s species stands a dozen paces away. The stranger has reddish skin, and a similar build to Gog but not nearly as large. He does not look overly happy to see Gog.
“Oh, it is you, Gog. We had thought perhaps you’d fallen to misfortune during your hunt.”
The stranger’s voice carries a note of contempt as thick as London fog. He comes closer, and reveals he is not alone. Two more of the horned humanoids enter the Oasis. Both of them look just as contemptuous of Gog as their leader.
“Talfa, well met,” Gog says with a resigned patience that tells me he’s quite used to being treated like this. “Have you come out in search of me?”
“Unlikely,” says one of Talfa’s companions. The higher pitch to the voice and the slighter build tell me it’s a female of the species.
“No, Gog, the Chieftain has sent us to investigate the fallen star. He fears it could be a threat to our village.”
“I assure you that is not the case,” Gog says.