Page 18 of Secretly Abducted
"You keep saying that," Alex observes, his fingers still tracing lazy patterns on my forearm. Each touch sends cascades of bioluminescence across my skin that I cannot control. "But you haven't moved."
"Neither have you."
"I'm comfortable here."
"In an emergency shelter?"
"With you."
The simple statement makes my skin flare gold again. After ten years of careful control, my bioluminescence is betraying every thought, every feeling.
"The other farmers will be checking storm damage," I try again.
"Do they usually wonder where you are?"
"No."
"Then they won't start now."
I should insist we leave. Should activate the ascent sequence. Instead: "Where are you staying? On the planet?"
"With Finn and Tev'ra."
"And they won't worry about your absence?"
Alex shrugs. "Finn knows I can take care of myself. Plus he probably assumes I'm doing exactly what I'm doing."
"Which is?"
"Spending time with the person I came here to find." He steps back slightly, giving me space, and I immediately miss the proximity.
"Are you hungry?" I ask.
"Starving, actually."
"My dwelling isn't far. I could... prepare something."
Alex's smile is brilliant. "Are you inviting me to your place?"
"For food," I clarify quickly, my skin cycling through anxious purples. "Just food."
"Of course. Just food."
The way he says it makes it clear he knows it's not just food. But he doesn't push, doesn't tease. He simply gathers his wet clothes, wringing them out over the shelter's drainage grate.
"Ready?" he asks.
I activate the ascent sequence, and the shelter begins to rise. Water streams down the transparent walls as we breach the surface, revealing the aftermath of the storm. The ocean is still choppy, gray-green instead of its usual clear blue. Debris floats everywhere—broken zhik'ra stalks, displaced creatures, the detritus of violence.
"Wow," Alex says, looking at the devastation. "That's a mess."
"It's not as bad as it appears. Most will recover."
We exit onto the platform, which creaks ominously under our weight. I make a mental note to check the structural supports later. The air smells of ozone and disturbed sediment, that particular scent that follows major storms.
"This way," I say, diving into the water.
Alex follows without hesitation, though his swimming is labored after hours in the shelter. I slow my pace, staying near the surface. The water is murky with stirred sediment, visibility reduced to perhaps ten meters.
