Page 87 of The Alien in the Archive

“So…tea it is, then,” she says.

Page moves toward the kitchenette, her bare feet padding softly against the wood floor. She looks over her shoulder as she rummages through a cupboard. “I’ve got all kinds of tea. Earl Grey, peppermint, uh…okay, mostly just different boxes of Earl Grey. Then there’s this stuff I got from the market, Ka’reth cloudweed?”

“I don’t know what any of these are,” I reply.

“Huh, right,” she says. “Okay…”

She turns around and smiles at me.

“Read my mind.”

I frown. “For tea?”

“Yeah. You can tell what it tastes like if I remember it, right?”

I cock my head, smirking. “You know…you come up with the most interesting uses for telepathy.”

She bites her lip. “I’m sure we could get even more creative.”

I stand, crossing the room slowly. Her teasing smile falters as I close the distance between us, coming around thecounter, her breath hitching when I stop just a step away. I reach out, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

“Alright then,” I say. “Think of tea.”

She holds back a laugh, but locks eyes with me, and I get a taste of each one. Lavender, floral, creamy; peppermint, cool and sharp; and sweet, cloying, strange…

“Earl Grey,” I murmur, pulling back.

“So you prefer a black tea to herbal,” she says. “Noted.”

I shake my head. “No…I didn’t actually pick. I could just tell it’s your favorite.”

“That’s cheating,” she laughs. “You could have guessed. I mean, I said I have the most of it?—”

“You didn’t have to,” I reply. “I can always tell when you like something. It’s a distinct kind of pleasure.”

Her cheeks flush and she whips her head back toward the cupboard, evading me. “Well, since you’re so confident, I guess we’re going with Earl Grey.”

I step back, leaning against the counter as I watch her fill the kettle. Being here with her…it feels so good. Right.

“You’re staring,” she says without turning around.

“You’re worth staring at.”

“I’m doing what I do every single night,” she laughs. “Making tea, reading, writing…you’re the most interesting part of my life, Thorne.”

“I would love nothing more than to be ordinary with you,” I murmur.

She gives me a soft smile. “Right…I can picture us with a white picket fence, me baking an apple pie while you brood over the grill.”

“That sounded like complete gibberish to me.”

“Don’t worry, it’s bullshit anyway,” she waves her hand. “No…I’m trying to imagine our ordinary. A cute little house? Maybe a couple more lumivix or even a dog? Teaching, talking all night…”

I raise an eyebrow. “Is that the only thing you want to do all night?”

She bites her lip, shaking her head as she looks down at the mugs she’s preparing beside the stove.

“We could also drink tea,” she teases.

---