Page 47 of Right Next Door
After a long moment, she mumbled, “I was waiting for you.”
Waiting for him. To dosomething.
Oh. Like the flowers.
Except, it wasn’t about flowers. It never had been. What a female wanted was proof of his devotion and intention through action. That was the real meaning to the flowers. Which he very well knew. He had read it with his own eyes.
But he was only just seeing, understanding, it now.
She would not ask for him to prove himself, she wanted him towantto prove himself.
“I did not know you were waiting on me,” he finally said. “I was waiting on you.”
“Huh? Waiting on me to what?” She frowned, pausing in her braiding again.
“Waiting for you… to invite me in.”
“What?” She gave him a look like she thought he was the dumbest creature in the world. “I traveled all the way across the known universe to meet you, and you didn't take that as permission to get closer to me?”
He hesitated before saying, “No. I didn't assume that meant you would welcome my attentions. Especially since, as I understand it, there were some extenuating circumstances in your decision to come here. Being matched doesn’t mean we weren’t still perfect strangers. I thought you’d prefer space to get comfortable, and then, once you were, you’d give me permission to get close. I needed to be sure.”
“You- ugh!” She gave up, hunching over, focusing back on her braids. Fingers moving quickly again. “I can’t even begin to… Why in the world… How much bigger can a damn hintbe!?”
She mumbled under her breath a lot. Like her thoughts were too big, too passionate, to keep a lid on them completely. He rather liked that about her. It was charming, in a strange way. He wanted to hear more of her unfiltered musings.
Aside from her grumbling, they fell silent again as she put a great deal of focus on her work. He didn't even care about the braids. More focused on her. The tightness of her tiny little brow fur tufts, the way the heat of her feelings brightened her face, the tension in her forehead and the clench of her jaw and the slope of her neck.
“Was I that wrong?” He finally asked.
“Yes,” she snapped immediately, not even hesitating for a moment. “You were definitely that wrong. How do you think I feel? I just came to an entirely new planet, underextenuating circumstances, if that’s what we’re going to call them. I land, and the guy who is supposed to be my mate essentially goes, ‘hi, bye’ and just leaves me there. The only damn messages I’ve received from you this entire time were the ones telling me that I’m coming with you to a party. And that’s another thing!”
She had been so reluctant to speak before. Absolutely refusing to tell him what was wrong. And now, in direct contrast to that, she was going off completely. Ranting like a pressure relief valve in her throat had been released and everything she had been holding back was rushing out.
And that worried him.
Because she wasn’t supposed to tell him these things. She wasn’t supposed to ask for his attention. If she had to ask for his effort, then it became meaningless if he gave it because it was no longer his choice.
If she had given up on him and that was why she was going off on this tirade, did that mean he had lost his chance to fix this mistake he hadn’t even realized he’d been making?
But he also couldn’t stop her. Not now that she was finally talking to him. Even if it was to berate and condemn him. He had to hear what he had done. He had to hear her talk.
“Do you think I’m a damn doll or something?” She pulled a bit too hard on his fur, but he didn't protest the treatment. “You tell me – don’t even ask me, justtellme – that we’re going to a party. Which is rich, since you were waiting on my permission to approach me, but apparently that doesn’t count when it comes to business, right? Business is super important, I guess. Do you think that’s what mating is like, huh? Just me waiting on you tosummon me like a little toy so you can dress me up and parade me around then stuff me back in a box at the end of the day?”
“I don’t know what mating is like.”
“What?!” She whipped her head around. Midtirade, the question didn't sound so much like her being surprised or misunderstanding. It was a short, chopped question, like she didn't even realize what he said at all.
“You asked me,” he reminded her gently. “You asked if I thought that’s what mating was like. I’m telling you that I don’t know what mating is like.”
“Clearly,” she grumbled, focusing back on her braids. “Understatement of the year. I’ve never met someone so clueless at love and romance that they have a sure thing literally in their hands, waiting for them, and they fumble the bag by just ignoring it.”
“I never ignored you.” His voice was so soft in contrast to hers, but it got her attention just the same.
“Seriously? That’s what you’re going with?”
“I never ignored you,” he repeated, more firmly this time. “I just gave you space.”
“Again, you thinkthat’swhat mating is like?”
