Page 56 of Right Next Door
“Cans? What do cans have to do with… Oh! You mean the cans we tie to the back of the car of a couple that just got married?”
“I was supposed to tie them to a hover?” He repeated, confused. “What good would they be on a hover? You wouldn’t be able to hear or see them.”
“Fair point, fair point. So, then, what’s with the arrows?”
“That’s another thing that confused me. But in so many human images of romance, there was an infantile human wielding a bow and arrow. Now, I do know that human infants cannot pull back on bows, so I’m guessing this was metaphorical somehow, but the arrows seemed important. So we brought them in case you needed them.”
“Ah. Cupid’s arrow. Those are meant to represent Cupid’s arrow. That explains it.”
Tsok gave her a look. Searched her expression as she tried – shereallytried – to keep it together. His ears dropped. “I did this wrong, didn't I?”
“No-o-o…”
“Misty, do not lie to me,” he fixed her with a look.
She couldn’t take it anymore. She burst out laughing. It was probably – no,definitely– the most ridiculous thing she’d ever seen! She’d never seen a date go so wrong. It was like he’d taken a bunch of first date ideas, mixed them up with some wedding traditions, understood neither, shook them up, then just splattered them all over the gazebo.
It was silly and hilarious and she couldn’t keep it in any longer. Tsok let out a long breath as he sat back into the seat.
“Alright. What did I get wrong?”
“Nothing,” she snickered, shaking her head, trying to get herself back under control and failing absolutely and completely.
“Give me a hint.”
“It’s great.”
“You’re laughing.”
“Because it’s funny,” she wheezed, sliding around so she could nudge him with her shoulder. “Nothing here is right. But that doesn’t make it wrong.”
He gave her a look that she ignored as she instead picked up a piece of steaming hivre meat. It burned her fingers a bit, making her toss it into her mouth where it promptly burned her tongue. But she kept it there, bouncing it around through hot puffs of air, as she waited for it to cool off enough to bite into it with a satisfied hum.
He was right, it was really good. The flavor was somewhere between lamb and goat, but the meat itself was tender and soft like slow roasted beef brisket. It melted in her mouth as she chewed, making an appreciative sound of enjoyment.
“You do not have to force yourself to pretend to like it,” Tsok said. “Though, I am confused. The human data said that dinning together was a very common first date idea.”
“It is,” she agreed, reaching for another piece. When she sat back, she was leaning against his side again. “What made you go with spit roast though?”
He didn't answer right away, catching her attention. She glanced up but he was looking away, his ears flattened to his head as he admitted softly-
“It is a primitive way of cooking. I thought you might appreciate it more.”
“Because my species is primitive?”
“No,” He said quickly. “Because your species is more… primal.”
“Ah, I see. And you thought that me seeing a shirtless male roasting an alien pig on an open fire was primal enough to get my engine going?”
He said nothing, which was as good as confirmation. She grinned, leaning closer to whisper-
“Well, you thought right, sugar. That was a very nice sight. And this is some good meat.”
He whipped his head around. Eyes wide in surprise. “You said I did it wrong.”
“No, I said you didn't do it right,” she snickered. “Doesn’t mean it’s wrong, or that I don’t like it.”
“But that…” He just looked confused.
