Page 35 of Nebula Hearts
“My quarters or yours?” I ask.
“Yours. They’re closer.” She takes my hand. “And I might actually collapse if we have to walk any farther.”
We move through the ship. Hand in hand. The corridor seems longer than usual. Each step heavy with significance. With awareness of what comes next.
At my quarters, the door slides open. We step inside.
The space is small. Functional. I’ve never thought of it as intimate before. But now, with Aris here, with the partial bond humming between us and the weight of what we’re about to do, it feels both too large and too small simultaneously.
She turns to face me. Gold light from my markings illuminates her face. Makes her hair shine with red highlights. Makes her freckles stand out against her skin.
Beautiful. The word surfaces unbidden. She’s beautiful and brave and choosing me despite every logical reason not to.
“Aris.”
“Yeah?”
“If you’ll have me…” All of a sudden, the words die in my throat. “We complete the bond. No more waiting. No more fear.”
ARIS
The door slides shut behind us, sealing with a soft hiss that feels incredibly final.
We stand in the small space, looking at each other. The gold light from his markings casts long, dancing shadows across the walls, making everything feel both intimate and surreal.
“I don’t know the steps, or the ritual, or...” I say, the admission coming out quieter than intended.
“I don’t know if there’s a ritual,” he says, his voice a low murmur. “And it doesn’t matter.” He moves closer, slow and deliberate, giving me time to back away if I want to. “Just choice. Intimacy. Trust.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s everything.” He stops just in front of me, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his skin, but not touching yet. “The bond forms when both people choose connection over isolation. When they’re willing to be completely vulnerable with each other.”
“Completely vulnerable.” I reach up and touch his chest, feeling the frantic, powerful beat of his heart under my palm. “You’re nervous.”
“Yes.”
“Good. Me too.”
His hand covers mine, pressing my palm more firmly against his chest as if to anchor both of us. “We can stop. Any time. If you change your mind...”
I cut him off with a kiss.
It isn’t gentle like before, or desperate like at the relay. It’s an unwavering, resolute action, a statement of fact. This is what I want. This is who I want.
He responds immediately, his surprise melting into a matching fervor. One hand slides into my hair, tilting my head back, while the other finds my waist, pulling me closer until there’s no space between us—just heat and want and the overwhelming knowledge that this is right. He answered my kiss, his own demanding and taking and giving all at once. I open for him, and his tongue sweeps inside, the taste of him flooding my senses—something clean and alien and entirely him.
We break apart, both breathing hard, foreheads resting against each other.
“Still nervous?” I ask, my voice breathy.
“Terrified.” His thumb brushes along my jaw, a feather-light touch that travels down my throat. “And resolute. Both at once.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
My fingers, shaking slightly, find the fasteners on his jacket. He covers my hands with his, stilling them for a moment before taking over.
“Let me.”
