Page 21 of Secretly Abducted
"We could sit on the floor," he suggests.
"The floor?"
"Yeah, it's fun." He's already settling down near the window that overlooks the water. The gray shorts ride up as he sits cross-legged, and I have to focus very hard on not staring.
I join him, maintaining careful distance. The food is strange—rich, heavy, nothing like my usual efficiency-focusedmeals. But Alex makes small sounds of pleasure as he eats that make me want to try it.
"Good?" he asks.
"It's... unusual."
"But good?"
"Yes."
Through the window, we can see other dwellings beginning to light up along the coast as darkness falls. The water itself glows faintly with bioluminescent organisms stirred up by the storm. The sound of waves against the support pillars creates a rhythm I usually don't notice.
"Your place needs personality," Alex declares, setting down his empty bowl.
"It has personality."
"It has the personality of a medical facility." He stands, stretching in a way that makes his back muscles shift. The shorts slip lower. "Where do you keep personal things?"
"What personal things?"
"Photos, mementos, souvenirs?"
"I don't have any."
He stares at me. "Nothing? In ten years?"
"I have cultivation records."
"That's work, not personal."
"The distinction seems arbitrary."
He wanders into my sleeping quarters without invitation. I follow, anxious about him disturbing that space too. The sleeping platform dominates the room—large, practical, with coverings in the same gray as everything else.
"At least the bed's big," he comments, pressing on it to test the give. "Comfortable too."
"It's designed for optimal rest."
"Of course it is." He notices a storage compartment and opens it before I can stop him. Inside are the few items I couldn'tquite discard—a commendation from my research days, a shell I found with unusual bioluminescent properties.
"See?" he says gently. "Personal things."
"Those are... private."
"I'm not going to look through them. I'm just pointing out that you do have things that matter beyond efficiency." He closes the compartment carefully. "Can I ask you something?"
I nod, distracted by the way he's made himself at home in my most personal space.
"What happens tomorrow? With us?"
"I don't understand."
"Yes, you do."
