Page 34 of Secretly Abducted
Alone.
The way it should be.
The way it has to be.
Even if it no longer feels like enough.
Chapter Eight
Alex
"These are definitely not real nachos," Finn says, crunching on another chip loaded with synthesized cheese, "but I'm not complaining."
We're sitting on Tevra's dock, feet in the water, watching the sun paint the ocean in shades of gold and coral. After this morning's intensity with Vel'aan and the afternoon's attempt to help with repairs, I needed this—something simple and human and uncomplicated.
"The synthesizer does pretty well with junk food," I agree, reaching for another loaded chip. "The soda's almost perfect."
"Right? I was expecting everything to taste like cardboard." Finn takes a long drink from his bottle. "Though I notice you're not exactly thriving on the local cuisine either."
"Raw kelp for breakfast gets old fast."
"Tevra keeps trying to convince me that fermented vegetable paste is a delicacy." Finn shudders. "I'm sticking with synthesizer tacos, thanks."
We sit in silence for a moment, the water lapping gently at our legs. It's been good, having another human here who gets it—the strangeness, the culture shock, the constant feeling of being slightly out of place even in paradise.
I sigh. "This afternoon, when we were working, he invited me back to his place. I had to say no."
"Why?"
"Because I would've kissed him. Or worse."
"Worse?" Finn laughs. "You mean better?"
"Not if it makes him run completely." I take another drink of soda, the bubbles sharp against my throat. "He needstime to process things. Slowly. And I need to respect that, even if waiting is killing me."
"The Nereidans are worth it, though," Finn says, his voice going softer. "Tevra's been teaching me to see their bioluminescence patterns. Did you know they have over forty distinct emotional expressions that show through their skin? It's like they're walking mood rings, but beautiful."
"Vel'aan's colors are incredible," I admit. "When he's happy, he gets these gold spirals. When he's embarrassed, there's this pale green. And when he's..." I stop, remembering the deep purple that had flooded his skin when I'd admitted I still wanted him.
"When he's what?"
"Interested. Maybe. Despite himself."
Finn nudges my shoulder. "So there's hope."
"Maybe. If I don't fuck it up by pushing too hard again."
"You won't," Finn says confidently. "You're too gone on him to risk it."
We return to eating, the synthesized cheese cooling into orange clumps that are somehow still delicious. The sun sinks lower, turning the water into liquid metal. I'm thinking about heading inside, maybe taking another cold shower, when movement in the water catches my eye.
Someone's swimming toward us, their strokes smooth and efficient—definitely Nereidan. As they get closer, my heart starts racing.
It's Vel'aan.
He surfaces near the dock, and even in the dying light, I can see he's exhausted. His usually luminous skin is dim, his dark hair plastered flat against his head. He must have been working alone all afternoon after I left.
"Vel'aan," I breathe.
