Page 30 of Alokar
This wasn’t some simple romantic dilemma of choosing between career paths or deciding which city to call home. This was attempting to navigate the impossible logistics of love across species, across worlds, across the very fabric of what I’d once believed possible. What kind of future could we possibly build together when we existed in completely different—not worlds—universes?
But somehow, miraculously, it didn’t matter.
If my father’s sudden, brutal death had taught me anything, it was that life was achingly, devastatingly short, and much too precious to waste on fear or doubt. No matter how much time the universe granted Ewok and me, be it days or decades, I was determined to savor every second.
I finished my business, cleaning myself with a handful of soft, dew-dampened moss gathered from a boulder nearby, the cool moisture refreshing against my skin. As I made my way back toward camp, I noticed the sky had begun its slow transformation to the softest pearl-gray, painted with thefaintest blush of rose along the horizon. Dawn was perhaps an hour away, maybe less—but that left ample time for a make-out session with my alien boyfriend.
Alien boyfriend.
The phrase sent a thrill racing through my veins. I more than liked it—I loved it.
A subtle shift in the shadows near our tent made me freeze mid-step, my heart lurching as I instinctively scanned the din for the telltale bulk of a grizzly or perhaps Yaard. But as my eyes adjusted to the dim pre-dawn light, the familiar figure emerging from behind a cluster of bushes made my stomach drop with a different kind of dread.
Rodney.
He looked absolutely wretched—deep purple shadows carved hollows beneath his bloodshot eyes, and his once-golden hair now hung in greasy, unwashed strands. His skin had taken on a sallow, unhealthy pallor that spoke of too much alcohol and too little sleep. I had seen enough old photographs to know he’d once possessed a certain rugged handsomeness. But years of letting the ugliness inside him fester had gradually seeped outward, transforming him into something ugly and sad.
A twisted grin spread across his chapped lips as he spotted me. Even from several feet away, the sharp, acrid stench of stale beer rolled off him in nauseating waves.
“Were you watching me pee?” I demanded, not bothering to hide my disgust.
“No,” he snorted, swaying slightly on his feet. “Just rising for the day.”
I gave a derisive snort in return, not a single part of me believed his excuse. But he wasn’t worth wasting precious time on, not when Ewok waited for me in our tent.
Our tent. I liked the sound of that too.
I moved to step around his unsteady form, but Rodney thrust his arm out like a barrier, careful not to actually touch me. At least he possessed enough self-preservation instinct not to make that particular mistake.
“Why are you being like this?” he grumbled, his rank breath washing over me. The sour scent nearly made me gag.
“Like what?” I asked with icy indifference.
“Being so mean to me.” He attempted what I thought was supposed to be a wounded pout, but it came across as manipulative. “You know I’ve always liked you.” He gestured toward my tent, his voice taking on a bitter edge. “What does he have that I don’t?”
“Do you really want me to list it?” I laughed, but the sound held no warmth or humor. “He’s kind, sweet, protective….”
“I’ve always been sweet to you,” Rodney insisted, stumbling slightly. He was thoroughly drunk.
“Yeah,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes as my arms settled into a defiant cross over my chest. “It was really sweet of you to try to force me to have sex when I was fifteen years old.”
From inside our tent, a deep, rumbling growl vibrated through the air—low and threatening. Ewok was listening, and he was not pleased.
“You wanted it,” Rodney sneered, his face contorting with ugly arrogance.
“Oh yeah. I wanted it so much that I screamed for my dad and cheered when he kicked your ass,” I retorted.
Rodney staggered closer, his unsteady hand reaching toward mine with clumsy desperation. It was laughably easy to evade his grasp.
“Go back to bed, Rodney. You’re drunk.”
“I could hear you two fucking,” he hissed, his words slurring together. “It was disgusting.”
Another low growl emanated from our tent, deeper and more threatening than before.
“Your hearing must be off,” I countered with a saucy grin, refusing to let his crude words diminish what Ewok and I shared.
“Maybe I’ve been wasting my time on nothing but a whore.”
