Page 30 of Secretly Abducted
"That's no longer relevant."
"Oh? Why not?"
The question catches me off guard. I pause in wringing out my work tunic, fabric heavy with water. "He was here. Last night. This morning. But he's too... forward. Impulsive. I sent him back to his dwelling."
Kav'eth's eyes widen, and his skin brightens with what's definitely amusement now. "He was here? After the Council meeting?"
I realize my mistake immediately, but it's too late. I fold the wet tunic with unnecessary precision. "Briefly. The storm made travel difficult."
"The storm ended yesterday afternoon."
"Yes."
"And he stayed the night?"
My bioluminescence erupts in chaotic patterns of embarrassment—gold and blue and that terrible pale green that appears when I'm mortified. I turn away, pretending to examine the horizon. "It was practical. Transportation in storm aftermath can be—"
"Vel'aan." Kav'eth's voice is gentle but knowing. "What happened?"
I sit on the platform's edge, letting my feet dangle in the warm water. Small fish immediately approach, curious about the disturbance. Their gentle nibbles at my toes are oddly comforting.
"He wanted to see the zhik'ra forests. I showed him. The storm came. We took shelter." I watch the fish scatter as my feet move. "Then I brought him to my dwelling because he was hungry. He stayed because it was late. This morning he was... inappropriate."
"Inappropriate how?"
The fish return, bolder now, and I focus on their delicate explorations rather than Kav'eth's expectant silence. "He suggested physical intimacy."
Kav'eth makes a sound that might be suppressed laughter. The platform rocks slightly as he shifts position. "After one day?"
"Exactly!" I turn to face him, water sloshing around my calves. "It was too fast. Too much. Humans are—"
"Forward? Impulsive? Direct?" He's definitely laughing now, his patterns brightening with genuine amusement. "Yes, they are. It's actually quite refreshing once you get used to it."
I stare at him. "How would you know?"
"I've been working with Derek—my human partner—on integration initiatives. We've been learning about their customs." He adjusts his position on the platform. "The patterns are consistent. Humans often express interest within days of meeting someone they're attracted to."
I pull my feet from the water, disturbing the fish again. "That's... terrifying."
"Initially, yes. But also liberating once you understand it." The platform creaks as he adjusts his position, trying to find comfort on the wet surface. "They don't spend months analyzing compatibility before acting on attraction. They follow instinct, take risks, deal with consequences as they arise."
"But how do you know if it's genuine? If they truly want connection or just physical gratification?"
A larger piece of debris bumps against the platform, and I lean over to examine it. Salvageable, maybe, if I can untangle it from the twisted holdfast.
"You don't, at first. That's the risk." His patterns shift to something almost fond. "But from what they've told us, humans often express emotional intimacy through physical touch. For them, the two aren't separate. When they suggest intimacy, they're often also suggesting trust, vulnerability, emotional connection."
I grip the debris, using it as an anchor while I process this information. The rough texture of the damaged zhik'ra grounds me. "But we barely know each other."
"Do you? He traveled across space to find you. That suggests significant determination." Kav'eth pauses, watching a school of displaced fish swim past. "And from what I observed yesterday, his gratitude was deeply personal. Emotional."
"He said he trusted me," I admit quietly, my voice almost lost in the gentle lapping of waves against the platform.
"And you sent him away."
"I said goodbye was for the best."
Kav'eth winces, his skin darkening. "That's... definitive."
