Page 119 of Homebound
“You help enough.”
She looked down at her hands but could barely see them. It was pitch-black. How much help could she offer? The answer was, not much. He did all the work.
Simon was standing right next to her in his shirt with sleeves rolled up.
“Where’s your sweater? It’s freezing.”
“This cold suits me. It feels like Enzomora.”
Gemma was silent for a few moments. “Enzomora. Is it always this cold?”
“Yes. And humid. And windy.”
She couldn't imagine a more miserable climate. “What about in the summer?”
“There are no seasons. It’s always the same.”
Definitely miserable. “Sunshine?”
“Because of the humidity, there are always clouds. You don’t see a lot of what you call sunshine. We call it starlight.” He readjusted his chains and started in the direction of the turret. “You better take your coat with you when we go.”
A curious thought occurred to Gemma. “If Rix like cold weather, does it mean your homes are equally cold?”
The question managed to surprise him. “Actually, yes. There are no furnaces. But we’ll get one for our home.”
Our home. Just the sound of it filled Gemma with warmth, and it no longer mattered that Enzomora sounded as welcoming as Antarctica. She wasn’t in this for good weather.
???
They got back to the Tana-Tana’s hovel when the first light appeared on the horizon. Utterly exhausted, Gemma fell on top of the bed covers and dropped into a deep sleep. When she woke up hours later, Simon was gone. The curtain separating their side of the room from the dead landlord’s was firmly closed, but she knew the body was sitting by the window, keeping its macabre watch.
Muscles aching from hard work, she rolled out of bed and stripped off her clothes, heading for the shower, thinking that she’d never be able to come to terms with the Tana-Tana situation.
The water felt heavenly, and she took her time washing her underclothes while she bathed. Simon still hadn’t returned when she emerged, but, hungry though she was, she decided to wait for him to eat. He rarely went out during the day, and if he did, they were short, careful outings.
She fetched a can of noodles in a nasty red sauce that the label advertised as tomato and poured it into a small pot to warm up. The heating process didn’t improve the taste much, but in her experience, the noodles went down easier when warm.
Getting out two mismatched plates, she set the “table” on a stool that she had pushed next to the bed for them to sit on. There was only one chair in this place, and it was presently occupied by the former owner. Or was he, legally speaking, still the real owner since his body cohabited with Gemma and Simon? And when did an owner cease to be one, right upon their death or when their body was interred? Every time Gemma remained home alone with the Tana-Tana, those questions invaded her mind and drove her insane.
Simon walked in wearing his usual stony expression. He could have been bolting cables to the wall in Butan or killing aliens by ripping their heads off - neither action left a permanent mark on his Rix psyche.
“Hey, handsome,” she smiled brightly. “Dinner’s ready whenever you are.”
He halted his progress to the bathroom and drowned her in the full regard of his oversized eyes. “Give me a minute.”
While he washed, she laid out several strips of jerky meat on his plate in a flower pattern as a joke on their squalid surroundings, but also as an honest attempt at making their dinner affair homier.
Simon came out of the bathroom and lowered onto the bed next Gemma, keeping a distance between them. He wasn’t going to touch her. After their first coupling, he had backed off, unwilling to hurt her again, denying her the pleasure she now craved. She could tell him a thousand times that she could handle it, that she liked feeling the power of him moving all around her, sliding in, burning her with the desire so intense it threatened to incinerate her. But in typical Simon fashion, he had single-mindedly deemed Gemma too delicate for sex with him and decided to abstain for both of them.
Yet she had caught him looking at her, and those brief hot glances told her he hadn’t forgotten, and he was far from immune. Rix did experience lust, after all.
Gemma looked him over.
“Your braid’s come undone,” she said quietly. Her heart fluttered at the prospect of handling his hair. It stimulated her like foreplay.
He made an impatient jerk with his head. “It isn’t important.”
She climbed onto the bed and kneeled behind Simon.
