Page 65 of Emerald

20

Kroaicho

Mybodyproteststhemoment zha's warmth is gone.

When zha returns, I expect zha to sit across from me or maybe start fussing over the fire. But instead, Olivia does something I never would have predicted. Zha carefully lays down on my chest, zha's small body curling up against mine.

I stiffen in surprise, my skin flickering between blue and orange in confusion and something else. My many limbs freeze in place, unsure of what to do or how to react. I glance down at zha, baffled, but zha only murmurs softly, "I need you near me right now. I don’t really like being touched. Not softly, at least. But if you squeeze me hard… well, not too hard. I don’t want to die.”

The fragility in zha's voice catches me off guard. I don't understand it. Zha doesn't make sense. But for some reason, I don't push zha away. The feeling of zha's tiny body pressed against mine is strange. Unfamiliar. But not unpleasant.

My arms hover awkwardly, unsure of what to do with themselves. I'm not used to this kind of… closeness. Zhasie don't touch like this. We're solitary, always keeping our distance. My zhann taught me that. But Olivia—zha is different. Zha doesn't seem to follow those rules. And for once, I don't mind.

Zha said to squeeze, and so I make my limbs stop hovering and do as zha asked. Zha lets out a high-pitched sound and I stop, skin lighting up red when I think I have harmed zha.

“I’m alright. Just not quite so tight,” zha says.

With a delicacy I reserve for my most prized treasures, I move my limbs back around zha’s small body, slowly increasing pressure until zha speaks again.

“Yes,” zha tells me. “Just like that.”

I can feel zha’s trembling start to ease as zha settles against me, zha’s breath becoming more even.

“Two and not one,” zha mutters.

I open my mouth to ask what zha means, but zha speaks again. “I’m shutting down,” zha whispers to me. “Sorry.”

I don’t understand what that means, but don’t ask zha to explain. I realize I’ve had enough explanations and arguments for the day. There’s no energy left for anything at all.

Zha’s heartbeat, which had been rapid with fear, gradually slows, matching the rhythm of mine.

It takes me a moment to realize that zha is getting covered with my blood—my wounds are still seeping, and the dark, sticky liquid is smeared across zha’s skin and clothing. But Olivia doesn't seem to care. Zha is too focused on finding warmth and comfort.

Zha’s head rests against the larger section of my chest, right near the bioluminescent patches that faintly glow with each breath I take. Zha’s eyes flutter shut as zha finally starts to drift off, zha’s body limp with exhaustion.

I watch zha sleep, feeling my skin shift between colors again, a confused mix of blue and orange that I can't quite control. It's unsettling, this whole experience. I've never let someone be this close to me before. Not since my zhann. I've never wanted someone to be close to me. Not like this.

And yet, here zha is, this fragile human, curled up on my chest as if it's the most natural thing in the world.

I think of my zhann—of the way zha used to protect me when I was a zhannel, how zha would teach me about treasure and the importance of building my own hoard. I lost zha before I ever got the chance to learn everything zha had to teach. With Olivia, it feels like I'm learning something I never knew I needed.

It feels… strange. But not bad.

I let out a slow breath, the tightness in my chest loosening a little as I relax into the moment. My limbs, awkward at first, find a more natural position, curling slightly around Olivia without fully enclosing zha. I want zha to feel safe, even if I don't quite understand why it matters so much.

The warmth of the fire mixes with the warmth of Olivia's body, and despite my confusion, I feel a strange kind of peace settle over me. My skin glows a soft orange, brighter than it's been in a long time.

It's not just the relief of surviving the fight. It's something more. A quiet contentment that I've never experienced before.

I can feel Olivia's steady breathing, the way zha’s small body rises and falls with each inhale and exhale. The warmth of it seeps into me, and I find myself watching zha’s peaceful face as zha sleeps. Zha looks so fragile, so vulnerable, and yet there's something about zha that feels… strong. Resilient.

The thought is odd, but I can't deny it. I've seen the way zha faces the world—fearlessly, even when everything seems against zha. Zha’s like a tiny flame that refuses to go out, no matter how hard the wind blows. A living thing, zha’s fire, just like zha said about the sticks.

I would have never known about the sticks if I hadn’t listened. Hadn’t had zha to teach me.

And here zha is, resting on me as if zha trusts me completely.

My skin glows a little brighter, the colors shifting gently between blue and orange. I don't fully understand what I'm feeling, but for the first time in a long while, I don't feel the need to hoard. I don't feel the pull to go out searching for treasures. Not right now. Right now, this moment feels like enough.

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